


The Rapper and the Princess

by BadWolfRose (BadWolf1988)



Series: Eminem/Shemar/Prince Harry Series [2]
Category: Eminem (Musician), RPF - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Romance, Royalty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 25,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7017448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolf1988/pseuds/BadWolfRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Royal Wedding, Marshall Mathers would have been happy to never hear of the British Royal Family ever again. Too bad his three daughters are obsessed with the family. When fate steps in and throws Princess Emma, the Windsors bad girl princess, into his path he is sucked into a world that a street kid from Detroit could have never expected or wished for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nickthediva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nickthediva/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I do not know nor do I own Eminem. Owning people is frowned upon by the United States government and has been for a while.
> 
> Author's Note: Yes, I know I have a million other stories going right now but this story popped into my head while I was sick and the plot bunny would not leave me alone until it was written down. I'm slowly updating the rest of my stories...I PROMISE!

Detroit, Michigan

 

"Dad! You gotta come and check this out!" Whitney called from the entertainment room.

Ever since Hailie had moved out to join Lainey at the University of Michigan, Whitney had been stuck to him like glue. Didn't normal fourteen-year-old girls want nothing to do with their fathers? Was he a good father or was his daughter defective? It probably had something to do with not having a mother figure in her life. All three of his girls had always been close with him.

Marshall pushed his chair back, got to his feet and slowly made his way upstairs from his home recording studio in the basement.

"What's up, Whit?" He asked once he arrived in the entertainment room where his youngest daughter was snuggled under a comforter on the leather sofa. She was home sick with the flu and was watching DVR'd television shows.

"Entertainment Tonight is doing a segment on royalty. They have a celebrity panel matching celebrities up with members of the British royal family and they've paired you up with Princess Emma." Whitney explained.

Ever since the God forsaken royal wedding all three of his daughters had become obsessed with the British royal family. They would go around spouting off names like he was supposed to actually know who they were talking about. This was one of those moments.

"Princess who?" He stared at her blankly.

Whitney rolled her eyes. "Princess Emma. Queen Elizabeth's granddaughter. Cousin to William and Harry."

This was all still going completely over his head. He vaguely knew who these people were but he sensed that he had to pretend to be interested or else his daughter would never shut up.

"Alright, why have they matched me up with Princess Emma?" He asked although he didn't want or care to know the answer.

Whitney picked up her feet and motioned for him to sit down. "Just watch,"

Sighing, Marshall sat down. Whitney put her feet in his lap and hit the play button on the remote control.

The image on screen unfroze and Marshall found himself watching a panel made up of the Kardashian sisters and their mother discussing royal matchmaking. Dear Christ, this was going to be worse than he thought. Against his better judgment, he started listening.

Khloe K: "Okay, who's next?"

Kris J: "Eminem," (evil laugh)

Kim K: "I'll do it!" (raises her hand)

Kourtney K: "Sure you want to mess with Eminem?" (nervous laugh)

Kim K: "Have you, like, heard We Made You? Like, what else could he do to me?" (ditzy giggle)

How many times could a person say the word like in one damn sentence? What else could he do to her?

"Oh, you'll see," He mumbled to himself. Whitney kicked him to hush him up.

Khloe K: "Okay, Kim, who would you match Eminem up with and why?"

Kim K: Princess Emma. First off, like, Emma and Eminem sounds totally adorable together. Second, we know Eminem likes blondes and Princess Emma is a natural blonde."

A picture of an average height, blue-eyed blonde, with medium length wavy hair and curves to die for popped up on screen. The woman was wearing blue skinny jeans, a white tank-top, and orange skull earrings. It was obviously a paparazzi shot. That fine ass woman was a princess? The picture changed and now he was staring at the same woman in a much different setting. She was wearing a scarlet silk ball gown that fell to the ground and a pearl choker and matching teardrop earrings. Atop her head was a small diamond encrusted tiara. She was standing between Queen Elizabeth, who was similarly dressed except with a bigger tiara, and Prince Harry in full military ceremonial dress. She looked like she had walked right out of a Disney movie. He hated to agree with a Kardashian about anything but Princess Emma was his type...in appearance anyway.

Kris J: "And your other reasons?"

Kim K: "She's like half-American with ties to the city of Detroit."

Marshall didn't want to admit it but he was actually interested in hearing more.

Kim K: "She's the daughter of Prince Edward and his late first wife, Princess Alexis. Princess Alexis was born and raised in Detroit. Princess Emma spent, like, a lot of her childhood in Michigan. She even graduated from the University of Michigan."

Some more pictures popped up on screen. There was one of Princess Emma and her father, Prince Edward at a Detroit Tigers baseball game. Another of her exciting a church that Marshall recognized as being located in Warren. The final picture almost blew his mind. It was a picture of Princess Emma on the shore of one of the Great Lakes wearing a conservative bikini...fuck the woman had a body.

The Kardashians appeared back on screen and Marshall felt like throwing something.

Kim K: "Princess Emma is also known as the Bad Girl Princess and is best friends with her cousin, Prince Harry aka the Bad Boy Prince."

Kourtney K: "They're not really bad, though. They just have no problem showing their human sides."

Khloe K: "And they can't stand the paparazzi."

Marshall could relate to that.

Kris J: "Well, both of their mothers were killed with pap involvement. Princess Diana in a car crash and Princess Alexis's ambulance was blocked by the paps from getting to the hospital when she had her fatal heart attack."

Now that was royally fucked up.

Kim K: "I'd hate the paps too if something like that had happened to my family."

No, she wouldn't. She'd love it. She'd milk it for a storyline on her cursed show.

Kourtney K: "Any other reasons?"

Kim K: "My final reason is that I think Princess Emma could soften Eminem up a bit."

Oh, that bitch did not just go there. He had three daughters that he had raised all on his own. He was fucking soft enough.

Kim K: "Princess Emma also has a really big heart. She's the co-founder, with Prince Harry, of the Invictus Games for Wounded Soldiers. She's also, like the patron of a bunch of kids charities in England and America. She's like got a degree in non-profit management and heads the Princess Alexis Memorial Fund for Homeless families."

Khloe K: "And according to this interview, she's an Eminem fan...and so is the Queen!"

Say what now?

A clip dated 2007 appeared on the screen. Princess Emma was seated next to Prince Harry being interviewed prior to the Concert for Diana.

Interviewer: "So, Emma, were you a fan of any boy bands when you were younger?"

Princess Emma: "No, I never got into any of that. I was more of an Eminem fan thanks to Wills and Harry." (She shook her head and smiled.)

Prince Harry: "I already had two female cousins obsessed with boy bands. I couldn't let Emma become the third."

Marshall liked this dude. The soft, refined British accent made Princess Emma seem almost angelic.

Interviewer: "I'm sure your grandmother loved that."

Princess Emma: "The Queen," She made a point of correcting the reporters lack of respect to her grandmother. "isn't as uptight as everyone believes her to be."

Prince Harry: "We played the censored version of Mockingbird for her and she loved it."

Princess Emma: "She said it was like poetry. We had to burn the song onto CD for her so she could play it for our grandfather."

Before Marshall found himself any more attracted to a woman that he had no shot in hell with, he stood, kissed his sick daughter's forehead, and went back downstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

London, England

Harry's Cottage

Kensington Palace Grounds

"You two are seriously going to hold the games in Detroit this year?" Kate raised an eyebrow at Emma and Harry.

"What's wrong with Detroit?" Emma challenged. She had never really gotten on with William's wife. Kate thought that being a royal was all about looks and exotic vacations. She didn't understand or partake in the charity work required of their positions...and this was the woman who would one day be Queen.

"Isn't it a bit dirty...and low class?"

Emma had to count to ten before responding so she didn't say something she would regret later.

"My mum was born in that low-class city, Kate." She spoke through gritted teeth.

"Yes, we are holding the Invictus Games in Detroit, Kate, now we just need a performer to open the games." Harry quickly changed the subject. "What about Eminem? He's from Detroit." He turned to address Emma.

"We could ask him to person a censored version of Not Afraid!" Emma got excited. She was a huge fan of the rapper.

"So, we're going with an all around white trash theme this year?" Kate piped up again.

Emma had had enough. She stood and addressed Harry, completely ignoring Kate. "I'll go write him a letter. Do you want to meet me in my garden at around four for a bite to eat? We can discuss plans for the games in private."

Harry smirked and nodded. "See you at four."

Detroit, Michigan

One Week Later

"Daddy!" Whitney yelled as she came flying into the basement studio like a bat out of hell. "You have a letter from Princess Emma!" She was practically screaming as she waved an envelope in front of his face.

What in the holy fuck was she talking about? Glancing beside him Dre looked like he was torn between amusement at his daughter's antics and genuine alarm as he took the letter and opened it.

He read it aloud...to keep Whitney from wetting herself in anticipation.

"Dear Mr. Mathers,

I am writing to you on behalf of my cousin Harry and myself as well as wounded military men and women the world over. As co-founder of the Invictus Games, I would like to invite you to open this year's games to be held in the city of Detroit in May.

I understand that you are a very busy man with many demands on your time but if there is anything that can be done to arrange this I would be greatly indebted to you.

I have included my office phone number at the bottom of this letter.

Respectfully,

Emma Windsor"

He was impressed that the princess had signed the letter with her actual name and not her title.

Whitney started jumping up and down, clapping her hands. "Please, tell me you will do it, daddy!" She pleaded.

Dre shook his head and turned to look at him. "Bro, you REALLY need to cut down lil' mama's caffeine intake." He advised seriously. "The girl's gonna stroke out soon."

Marshall rubbed his temples. "Whit, I can't promise anything but I'll go and give her a call to see what this," He waved the handwritten letter. "is all about."

"Thank you, daddy!" Whitney jumped up and hugged him tightly around the neck.

Once she had released him he turned to his friend, mentor, and not to mention Whitney's godfather. "Watch her. Make sure she ain't followin' me eavesdropping please, dude."

Dre just nodded as Whitney looked both outraged and guilty because that is exactly what she had planned to do.

Once safely behind the locked door of his office, he dialed the phone number at the bottom of the letter.

"Princess Emma's Offices, this is Jackie, how may I assist you?" A pleasant, and shockingly American voice said on the other end of the line.

"Uh, yeah, my name's Marshall Mathers. I got a letter from Princess Emma about the Invictus Games." He said awkwardly.

"Of course, Mr. Mathers," Jackie replied with a smile in her voice. "Please hold a moment while I see if the princess has time to take your call."

Marshall had to chuckle when he noticed that Princess Emma's hold music was a censored version of The Monster.

London, England

Emma's St. James Palace Offices

Emma and Harry were going over the plans for the opening ceremonies of the Invictus Games and worrying over whether or not they would have an opening performer when a knock came on her office door.

"Come in," Emma called.

It was her secretary and closest female friend, Jackie. "Eminem's on hold for you."

Emma's heart rate sped up and Harry started softly laughing to himself but Emma had not a clue why.

Emma took a deep breath and answered the phone. "This is Emma."

Harry was still laughing. "What's wrong with you?" Emma mouthed silently but her cousin ignored her.

"I'm gonna be honest. I have no clue what to call you...and interesting choice of hold music." Were the first words out of the man known as Eminem's mouth.

"Shit," That's what Harry was laughing about. She grabbed the red stapler off of her desk and chucked it as hard as she could at him.

"Hey no! Staplers hurt!" Harry rubbed his arm. "It was just a joke...and I used the censored version!"

Emma heard a deep laugh on the other end of the line. Great, now Eminem was laughing at her. Harry was bloody dead. She thought he had only been taking the mickey out of her when he had threatened to change her hold music to The Monster.

"I'm sorry for my language. My hold music is usually, I Vow to Thee My Country. My cousin seems to think he's a right comedian." She explained with a blush that she was very thankful he couldn't see. "And you can call me Emma although I must admit that I'm having a similar problem in not knowing what to call you."

Another laugh. "Emma, I'm the last person you ever need to apologize to for cussin'. And you can call me Marshall. Eminem's more of a stage name."

Was she supposed to get chills when he said her name? She needed back-up if she was going to avoid making a complete fool of herself.

"Listen, Marshall, my cousin Harry is here with me at the moment. Would it be alright if I put you on speaker?" She asked.

Harry mouthed "coward" at her but she ignored him.

"Yeah, go ahead."

Emma hit the speaker button and hung up the handset.

"Harry here," Her cousin spoke up to announce his presence in the conversation.

"The comedian?" Marshall questioned in amusement.

Emma rolled her eyes as Harry answered, "Guilty"

"So, Emma," Marshall addressed her. "I got your letter and I'm curious what all the two of you are asking me to do?"

Finally, something she was prepared to talk about. "Well, since America is hosting the Invictus Games this year, we will be holding opening day ceremonies on Memorial Day. Opening ceremonies are going to kick off with a parade of wounded service men and women from around the world into Ford Field. We were hoping that you would be willing to perform a censored version of Not Afraid as the parade is going on. We are hoping to time the end of the parade to coincide with the end of your performance. As soon as the music stops a firework display will be detonated." She explained.

"And we have to warn you now that the Invictus Games does not pay for appearances," Harry advised.

"While normally I don't work for free and I don't censor my music, I guess I can break my own rules." It sounded like he was going to do it. "It's for a good cause and it's goin' down in Detroit and I'm a hometown boy so I'll do it." He agreed.

Emma had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from squealing with joy.

"That's awesome, mate. Listen, I need to steal Emma. Let me give you her mobile number. You can give her a call tonight and work out the rest of the details." He rattled off her mobile number before Emma even knew what hit her. Just as quickly he ended the call...or so it appeared.

She glared at her cousin. "Did you just give Eminem my mobile number?"

Harry nodded and smiled cheekily. "Yes,"

"Why would you bloody well do that?!" She hissed.

"Because, you have fancied him since you were twelve, you're both single according to Google, and you're a twenty-seven-year-old virgin. That is in no way healthy, love." Harry backed up a little further out of her reach because she was slowly advancing on him.

"I'm going to murder you, cut you up into itty bitty pieces and throw you in the River Thames," Emma informed him calmly...before giving chase.

The princess never noticed the red light on the phone indicating that speaker was still on...and Marshall had heard every word.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I used to really like the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge...not so much anymore. I have strong ties to the U.K. through family and friends and I don't agree with their work ethic. There is no reason that William cannot work a forty hour week like the rest of his co-workers. There is also no reason that Prince Philip, a man pushing one hundred years old should be performing more royal duties a year then two healthy, young people in their thirties. Prince Harry does more than them and he isn't even the heir to the throne. I defended Kate through the Waity Katie years but I've come to think of her as an opportunist and gold-digger. She tries to emulate Princess Diana but she doesn't come anywhere close. Princess Diana had A LOT of issues but she was still England's Rose, a woman who cared about other people. Kate just sits back and looks pretty (and scary skinny) and takes too many vacations for someone that doesn't do much anyway. This is just my opinion but I realize that many people do still like the couple. I'll respect your opinion if you respect mine. If you would like to read a story where Kate is not the villain, you can read my story Harry and Hermione.
> 
> Author's Note II: For those who do not know, Fleet Street is a nickname for the British press.

Detroit, Michigan

The Mathers House

Marshall sat in his leather office chair with a smirk on his face as he hit the end button on his cell phone. So, the woman he hadn't been able to get off of his mind in over a week was attracted to him. And according to the late night googling he had been doing, she was so far down in the royal line of succession that she was allowed to date and marry whoever she chose. Oh, this wasn't going to be no one night stand. If Marshall Mathers was going to play at the romance game again he was going to play for keeps. Princess Emma was wifey material and if he was lucky enough to be thrown into her orbit, well, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Looking down at the cell phone number that he had copied down, he sent the princess a text message before going and telling Whitney that she had gotten her wish and he would be performing at the Invictus Games.

Kensington Palace

Emma's Apartment

After Emma had beaten Harry to within an inch of his life, she had gone about the rest of her day as usual. She had started making arrangements for the opening ceremonies of the Invictus Games, had attended the opening of a new children's home in Surrey, and had managed to sit through a family dinner at Buckingham Palace without killing Kate or making fun of her too badly. It wasn't until she was at home later that night, soaking in her bathtub relaxing that had a chance to check her mobile.

She had one new text message from an American phone number. Curious, she opened it.

***You have one of the most angelic voices that I've ever heard. Can't wait to hear it again tonight.

-Marshall***

Emma didn't know what to do. It certainly seemed like Eminem was hitting on her. This was her teenage fantasy coming true. Sadly, the awkward adult in her didn't know how to handle the situation. Luckily, she didn't get too much time to think about things before her mobile began to ring and it was him.

Taking a steadying breath she answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Nice to hear your voice again baby girl," Emma's heart almost stopped at the flirtatious tone in his voice. He had NOT been talking to her in that tone earlier in the day.

"How are you tonight, Marshall?" She wasn't even going to attempt to flirt back because she knew that she wasn't any good at it.

"Better, now that I'm talkin' to you, mama."

"You know, Marshall," She challenged. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were flirting with me."

"And if I was?" He countered.

"I wouldn't stop you," Emma admitted brashly.

"Why not?" She could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Because I kind of fancy you." She was red from head to toe and had no clue what in the hell she was doing. She was just doing what felt right.

"If that's your way of saying ya like me, I guess I should tell you that I kinda like you too, Emma." His voice was husky now. "So, what are we gonna do about this, mama?"

She had no idea how in the world to answer that question.

"What do you want to do about it?" She answered a question with a question.

He let her get away with it. "I'd like to get to know you better baby girl. I'll be in London on Saturday for an awards show. Maybe you'll let me take you out to dinner?" He sounded completely sincere.

"You really want to get to know me?" Emma was dumbfounded.

"I ain't lookin' for a fling or a booty call if that's what you're askin'." He responded bluntly. "I'm too old for that shit."

This set her mind more at ease about the entire situation. She had been a fan long enough to know that Marshall Mathers didn't say anything he didn't mean. "I'd love to have dinner with you, Marshall. It would just probably be better if we stayed in and ate at my place. Fleet Street follows me everywhere in London. I'd really like to get to know you without the intrusion of the press if that's okay?" She chewed nervously on her bottom lip as she waited for his response. Maybe she had been too forward?

"I'd love that, mama." She could hear him smiling.

"So..."

The bathroom door banged open and in barged Kate.

"Bleeding Christ! Marshall, can you hold on a minute? A mad person just barged into my bathroom uninvited." She put her hand over the receiver. "Kate, what in the hell are you doing here and how did you get a key to my flat?"

"I borrowed your key from Beatrice." She waved her hand. "Why does everyone in the family have a key except for me?"

"Gee, I wonder," Emma replied dryly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," She finally noticed the phone in Emma's hand. "Who are you talking to?"

"A friend," Emma responded shortly. "Is there anything I can do for you, Kate or were you just invading my privacy for kicks?"

Kate snapped her fingers. "Oh, right. Wills and I are doing a walkabout in Ireland tomorrow and the only piece of Irish jewelry I own is that tacky shamrock pin your gran gave me."

First of all, that "tacky" pin was made out of silver, diamonds, and emeralds and was worth close to half a million pounds. Second, Kate didn't "own" it. It had been loaned to her for the duration of her lifetime. It was actually a piece that belonged to the Crown Jewels collection.

"Is there any way that I could borrow that diamond Celtic cross necklace of yours? The one your Irish ancestor made after immigrating to America?"

"You mean the one made in the low-class city of Detroit?" Emma raised an eyebrow at her.

Kate nodded. "Yeah, that one."

Jesus, if the woman was any slower she would be going backward. Emma told her to grab the necklace out of her jewelry box just to get her to go away.

Once Kate was gone, Emma returned her attention to her phone. "Marshall?"

"I'm still here, mama. Family troubles? I didn't know the entire royal family lived together." He laughed.

"We don't," Emma chuckled. "Everyone, except my grandparents, parents and a few aunts and uncles live in Kensington Palace but we all have our own private flats, or in Harry's case cottage." She explained. "My cousin's gold-digging wife is just allergic to work so spends her days annoying the rest of the family." She huffed. She knew that she shouldn't be saying these things to someone who barely knew but she didn't care. She needed to vent and who better to vent to then the king of venting? "Wills and Kate live on the opposite side of the palace. That woman literally has to go out of her way to fucking annoy me."

Marshall burst out laughing. "I've learned a few things about you today, baby girl." He informed her.

"And what have you learned?" She was genuinely curious.

"I've learned that you're surprisingly shy and a little bit insecure. I know you like me but you're also scared of me." He was shockingly correct. "I know you're one hundred percent a lady but you have the mouth of a truck driver in private and I find it sexy as hell. I know you're a virgin. I know you hate Kate and I know you are naked right now."

"How in the fuck?" She blurted out.

Marshall started laughing again. "Baby, you're too damn shy to have ever been with a man and you pretty much told me you were in the tub when Kate barged in. I put two and two together."

"I don't know what to say," Emma admitted.

"Does it bother you that I know you're a virgin, mama?" Marshall asked gently.

Emma couldn't help it, she laughed. "Does it bother you that I AM a virgin?" She countered.

"Point in your favor, baby girl." He replied without missing a beat. "I ain't lookin' for a hoe. I'm lookin' for my queen."

"You think I could be your queen?" Emma laughed.

"No, I KNOW you're going to be my queen, baby." He sounded very sure of himself.


	4. Chapter 4

One Week Later

Hotel 41

London, England

He couldn't fucking believe he was actually doing this. He had arrived a day early for an awards show that he hadn't planned on even attending for the sole purpose of seeing a woman. God damn it! The Kardashian bitch was right. Princess Emma was making him go soft...and he wouldn't have it any other fucking way. For the past week any free moment he had, and Emma wasn't working, had been spent on the phone getting to know the bad girl princess. He knew she was called the bad girl princess because she had been caught smoking pot with Prince Harry once when she was a teenager and the press had found out about. He knew that her full name was Emma Alexis Diana Elizabeth Windsor, a mouthful, but she assured him that everyone in her family had names just as long as hers. He knew that she was the oldest of three children, the youngest two having been born to her father and his second wife. He knew that she was the only one of her father's children to hold the title of Princess. She explained this was because her grandmother had bestowed the title on her when she was a teenager because the Queen wanted her to be an active member of the royal family. Prior to that, she had been Lady Emma. He knew that Princess Diana had been one of her godparents...and she had six of them! Her favorite color was red and she was an avid horseback rider, a passion she had inherited from her beloved grandmother. He knew that she was a hard worker. Between running her mother's memorial fund, the Invictus Games, charity work, and royal duties, Emma often worked twelve hour days. He knew that she loved children and had no issues with the fact that he had three almost grown daughters. He knew that she wanted children and he would be lying if he said that he hadn't fantasized more than once about being the man to give her those children. He was falling for Emma and fucking hard...if he hadn't fallen for her already...he wasn't sure yet. He had to meet her face-to-face before he positively classified his feelings for her.

He had to leave soon to meet Emma for dinner at her Kensington Palace apartment...and he was actually worried about what to wear. Was he supposed to dress up for this? He wasn't good at that. He had worn shorts and a very nineties sweater vest to his first wedding for fucks sake! In desperation, he reached out to an expert.

*Hai-Hai, what should I wear tonight?*

He had been honest with his daughters about his relationship with Emma and his intentions. They were more than okay with it. He had been alone for a very long time and they just wanted him to be happy. In fact, they seemed downright excited.

**If you're having dinner at her place just wear your normal clothes. Oh, I looked online and her favorite flowers are white roses. HINT HINT DAD!**

*Thank you kiddo. Love you*

He threw on his leather jacket, grabbed his wallet, and left a few minutes early to do something he had never done before...buy a chick flowers.

Emma's Kensington Palace Apartment

Emma was pacing the floors of her flat like an American school girl waiting for her prom date to arrive. She had been looking forward to this night all week but now that Marshall was expected at any moment she was terrified. She wasn't dressed up. She was wearing a pair of black leggings and a large oversized white cashmere sweater. She had left her wavy hair down and a pair of diamond stud earrings completed her outfit. While she normally cleaned her flat herself, she had asked the palace cleaning crew to give it a once over that morning. She had taken a rare Friday off and spent the afternoon in her state of the art kitchen, a gift from her father and step-mother when she had finished university. She made her mother's famous corned-beef and cabbage and her grandmother's (on her mother's side) chocolate and butterscotch cookie bars. She had no staff in her flat save for her protection officer that stood guard outside her front door. She wanted Marshall to see her, a normal, down-to-earth woman who just so happened to have hit the genetic lottery. She wanted him to feel comfortable in her home so that maybe he would want to return.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she very nearly jumped out of her skin when her protection officer knocked and opened the door to announce, "A Mr. Mathers here to see you, ma'am."

Her heart nearly stopped but she recovered enough to say, "Thank you, John. You can show him in."

When he crossed the threshold of her flat she knew that there was a very good chance that she wouldn't survive the night with her virginity intact. He was dressed in baggy black jeans, a white Shady Records long-sleeved t-shirt, black leather jacket, and Timberland boots. In his hand, he held a bouquet of white roses and on his face he wore a smirk.

"Are you just gonna stand there and stare all night?" He asked once John has retreated back to his post.

Emma shook her head and blushed. "Sorry," She said meekly. "It's really great to see you, Marshall."

He smiled warmly at her and held out the bouquet. "These are for you, baby girl."

She reached forward and took them. "White roses are my favorite."

Marshall nodded, "Yeah, Hailie told me." He admitted.

That broke the ice and Emma laughed. "Well, thank Hailie for me." She grabbed an empty decorative vase off of the hallway table. "I'm going to get these in water. Would you like a drink while I'm in the kitchen?"

Marshall shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the rack by the front door. "Do you mind if I tag along, mama? I've been looking forward to seein' you all week. Don't wanna let you out of my sight now."

Just as quickly as the butterflies had left they were back with a vengeance. She just nodded as he followed her through her flat to the kitchen. She filled the vase with water and put the flowers inside. Marshall didn't take his eyes off of her the entire time.

"Smells great in here, mama." He stepped closer.

"Hope it tastes as good as it smells, haven't made it in a good bit." She replied nervously, setting the vase on the counter.

A huge grin broke out over his face. "You didn't have a chef cook? You cooked for me, baby?"

Emma nodded and looked at her feet as she responded. "I like to cook and I didn't want any staff in the flat tonight."

Marshall reached out and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. "You wanted to be alone with me, sweetheart?"

He had never called her that before and again all she could do was nod.

"Then why ain't you actin' like it?"

That question took her by surprise and she finally looked up. "What are you talking about?"

He gently tugged on her hand, bringing her into his arms which he gently tightened around her. He brought his mouth down to her ear and said softly, "You wanted to be alone with me to do things like this but you're scared, mama." He placed a soft kiss on the shell of her ear before he continued. "You don't have to be the well-behaved princess with me. Take what you want. If you want to touch me, do it. If you want me to hold you, tell me. I ain't ever gonna turn you away, baby girl. You're my queen remember?"

His words gave Emma a bravery that she didn't normally possess. She turned her head and softly kissed him. She moaned softly when he gently pushed his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss. He grabbed her by the hips and lifted her to sit on the marble countertop. Coming to stand in-between her legs it was Marshall's turn to moan when she wrapped her legs around his waist bringing her core directly in line with his crotch.

Unfortunately, their moment was interrupted by Kate, followed closely by William, who was himself followed by Harry flying through her front door with an exasperated John left shaking his head in annoyance behind them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This will be one of the harshest chapters on Kate by far. If you don't like that, read something else.

Emma and Marshall didn't have enough time to completely part before the small group arrived in the kitchen...not that Marshall really tried to part from her. He pulled his lips back but stayed between her legs with his arms wrapped around her waist...she loved it. It felt like he was acknowledging that she belonged to him – Did she belong to him? What did this make them?

"Bloody hell, Harry was telling the truth!" Kate screeched. "You're dating Eminem!"

"I'm taking everyone's keys away," Emma huffed. "And his name is Marshall."

"I tried to tell her to wait to talk to you until morning," William defended himself. "She wouldn't listen." He threw his wife under the bus.

"I'm only here in case you need help hiding her body," Harry leaned against the fridge and crossed his arms over his chest.

Marshall chuckled and kissed her cheek while Kate glared at Harry before turning her attention back to Emma.

"Em, really, what are you thinking getting involved with a rapper?" Kate shook her head. She was speaking as though Marshall wasn't in the room and couldn't hear everything that she was saying. "A woman in your position could find a much better match...even with how ample you are."

Emma felt like she had been punched in the stomach.

"I'll get the shovel," Harry muttered to himself.

"That's fucking it!" Marshall snapped and moved from between her legs to face Kate, anger written plainly on his face. "Listen here, you sick, bag of bones," He was within a foot of her and pointing his finger at her face. "That is the last time you walk into my lady's home un-fucking-invited and insult her. Her body is sexy as all fuck. You look like you need to eat a sandwich!"

Emma couldn't help but smile when he called her his lady.

Harry was almost on the black marble floor dying of laughter.

William looked like he didn't know what to do but he really wasn't running to defend his wife.

"How dare you speak to me that way?!" Kate was outraged...and turning slightly purple in her anger. "I am the future Queen of England!"

Marshall snorted. "And I'm an American who doesn't give a flying fuck! And Emma happens to be my own personal queen and you will fucking respect her or else. Trust me, princess," When he called her princess, he didn't say it with respect. "I am NOT someone whose bad side you want to get on."

William dragged Kate out of the flat before she could say another word. He looked a bit frightened.

Harry stopped on his way to leave and shook Marshall's hand with a look of mirth on his face. "Thank you so much for that! You made my bloody year."

Once they were alone again, Emma jumped off the counter and wrapped her arms around Marshall's waist and hugged him tightly.

He hugged her back. "What's this for, mama?" He kissed the top of her head.

"For calling me your lady," She kissed his shirt clad chest. "For sticking up for me to Kate."

He grabbed her chin in his hand and made her look at him. "Ain't no one gonna disrespect you so long as I'm around baby girl. You're not just my lady, you're my queen. Ain't no one else but you, mama."

"I love you, Marshall," Emma blurted out. She hadn't been expecting to say that. She hadn't even been aware that was how she felt but as soon as the words were out of her mouth she knew that they were true. She also knew she wanted something else. "And I want you to take me to bed and yes, I'm sure about this,"

She was twenty-seven-years-old. Too old to be a virgin and she knew that no better offer was going to be forthcoming. What could be better than losing your virginity to your teenage crush? A man that you were head over heels in love with? There was nothing better than that.

It took Marshall a moment to respond. He looked stunned and Emma was briefly worried that she had scared him off. But, instead of running, the stunned look slowly turned into a wide grin and he pulled her in for a kiss that took her breath away.

"I love you too, Emma," She loved it when he called her by her real name. "And I'd be honored to take you to bed. Turn the stove off, baby." He ordered huskily.


	6. Chapter 6

Marshall awake the next morning to the not unpleasant feeling of a warm, soft body curled up against his chest. Soft, silky hair tickled his nose. The smell of a rose perfume invaded his senses. He had never really been a very cuddly man if you didn't count his daughters, but he found himself thinking that he wouldn't mind waking up like this every morning for the rest of his life.

He had taken the virginity of a princess...on the first date...after insulting a future queen. A gentleman he had never been of being. Could he be forgiven for his sins if he admitted he was in love with said princess? Because he was. Emma held the pieces of his heart not already owned by his daughters. He may have taken her cherry in a way that a lot of people would disagree with but he also intended to be the only man to ever touch her. Plus, he had only done what she had asked of him and he had told her to take what she wanted. She had wanted him and he would be lying if he said that last night hadn't been the single best sexual experience of his life. While Emma had been clumsy and inexperienced, she had also been eager to learn and please...and the woman learned quick. Combined with knowing that he was her first and the feelings he had for her, Marshall knew that he would never tire of her.

He didn't have much time to enjoy holding her in his arms before her bedroom door flew open and a blur of orange breezed in and Emma was startled out of her sleep.

Jumping up and clutching the sheet to her chest, she glared at the blur that once still turned out to be Harry.

Harry brought a hand to cover his eyes. "Bleeding Christ, Em, when I said that you needed to lose your virginity, I didn't mean immediately within the week." He laughed.

Marshall chuckled and lazily sat up. "Morning, Harry."

Harry saluted in his general direction with the hand that wasn't still covering his eyes. "Morning just wanted to give you a warning. Kate's bitching about what happened last night to anyone who will listen. Your dad and step-mom will be over around half noon and they expect to speak to both of you. I wouldn't worry, your dad seemed more amused than anything and Sophie and Louise were downright laughing. Once you're dressed, Marshall, I'll give you the high-five that James instructed I give you."

From their telephone conversations, Marshall knew that Sophie was Emma's step-mother. Emma had been only two when her mother had died of a sudden heart attack. Sophie had been the only real mother that Emma had ever known. She adored the older woman.

Louise was her thirteen-year-old little sister and James was her nine-year-old brother. She always spoke of them both with the utmost pride and affection.

"Buggar all," Emma groaned and covered her face. "I'm sorry, Marshall. My family is completely mad."

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Mine's not any better, mama."

Once he realized that both Marshall and Emma were covered up, Harry had finally opened his eyes. He was smiling at them. "See, aren't you glad that I left the speakerphone on?"

Marshall felt Emma go rigid beside him. "What are you on about?"

Harry looked at him. "You didn't tell her?"

Marshall shook his head slowly.

"Tell me what?" Emma turned an icy glare on him.

"I'm just going to leave and let you explain," Harry said, slowly backing towards the door. "So sorry," He hightailed it out of the room.

"Explain, now!" Emma demanded once the door was closed. She scooted further away from him.

Marshall sighed and ran a hand over his face. "The day I called you about the Invictus Games, Harry didn't hang up the phone when you thought he did. I thought it was an accident but apparently, he did it on purpose."

"What exactly did you hear?" She scooted even further away.

Marshall wasn't having this shit. He reached out, grabbed her bare hips in his hands and gently but firmly pulled her to straddle his lap as he leaned against the headboard. He gripped her chin in his hand. "I heard Harry say that you've had a crush on me since you were a kid. I found out you were still a virgin."

"You played me," She accused.

He gripped her chin tighter. "No, I did fucking not! I found out that fine ass woman that I already had a thing for liked me back and I went after her."

Emma stopped trying to look away. She locked her eyes, that were suspiciously wet, with his. "Really?"

He released her chin and cupped her cheek in his hand. "Really, baby," He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "I'm glad I did too because I am so fucking in love with you, Emma. Last night was one of the best nights of my life."

She blushed. "Mine too," She leaned down to lay her head on his shoulder. "I thought you were going to run when I told you that I loved you but I couldn't help it. It slipped out."

If she had been any other woman, he would have.

"Glad it did, mama," He kissed her forehead as he started gently running his fingertips up and down her spine. "You know I ain't ever letting you go now, right, baby girl? You're fucking mine now."

She lifted her face to his. "That's exactly what I want, love." She kissed him.


	7. Chapter 7

Emma was pacing the length of her sitting room. After a morning round of lovemaking and a shared shower, Marshall and Emma had gotten dressed and reality had finally dawned on her. Her parents were coming over...to meet her new boyfriend...who had a less than stellar reputation.

"Mama," Marshall pulled her into his lap. "Please, relax. Everything's gonna be okay. I can behave when I need to. I wouldn't do anything to embarrass you in front of your folks."

Emma relaxed a little and leaned down for a kiss.

This was how her father and step-mother found them when John let them in the door. Her father cleared his throat to alert the couple of the presence.

They quickly pulled apart and Emma jumped to her feet.

"Hi, papa," She blushed. "Hi, Sophie,"

Her father gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Heard you had an entertaining evening yesterday, sweetpea," She could hear the amusement in her dad's voice.

Marshall got to his feet and held out his hand to her father. "Marshall Mathers, sir," He introduced himself. "And what happened last night was my fault but in my defense, Kate did start it by letting herself in and calling Emma fat."

"That little twit," Sophie huffed as she leaned over to hug her step-daughter. "You're beautiful, love."

Her father shook Marshall's hand. "There's nothing to defend, son. You were defending my little girl. I expect that of any man in a relationship with my daughter." He leaned towards him a little. "Plus, you didn't say anything we all haven't wanted to say. That young lady is a neverending nightmare."

"So, I'm not in trouble?" Emma asked hopefully.

Sophie waved a hand. "Not at all, love. We just wanted to meet your new young man." She nodded looking Marshall up and down. "I approve."

Her father shook his head and laughed. "And we needed to pass along a message from your granny. She's like to meet with the two of you at four."

At the panicked look on her stepdaughter's face, Sophie rushed to add. "She's not angry either. She just is under the impression that this relationship is serious and she wants to meet Marshall and discuss things."

"Is this serious?" Her father asked.

"For life serious, sir," Marshall answered looking her father in the eye.

Her father nodded. "Good, and the name's Edward, son." He nodded at his wife. "And that's Sophie."


	8. Chapter 8

Edward and Sophie had hung around for an hour getting to know Marshall before taking their leave. Emma was amazed and silently thanking God that her parents seemed to approve of her choice in a mate.

"So," Marshall said with a smirk once they were alone again. "How do you think that went?" He already knew that he had won her parents over.

Emma kicked out of her flats and laid on the sofa with her head in his lap. "I never thought that I'd hear Eminem call anyone sir." She giggled and he gently flicked her ear. "You were right. You can behave when you want to."

"Told ya," He started running his fingers through her hair. "Should I be worried about your grandmother?"

"No," Emma closed her eyes in relaxation. "If we needed to worry my parents would have warned us. Just bow your head at the neck when you enter her presence, refer to her as Your Majesty the first time you speak to her and ma'am every time after that."

Marshall snorted a laugh. "There are a lot of rules in your family huh?"

"Only until you join the family...unless you're Kate...she still has to curtsey to Granny."

This made him laugh even harder.

The laughter didn't last long before he changed the subject. "I head home tomorrow night, mama. When am I gonna see you again?"

Emma's heart sank. She didn't want to think about him leaving.

"I'm not free of royal duties until the Invictus Games, then I'll get June through September off but I'm expected at Balmoral for at least a few weeks. I'll have a few weeks off in March but I'm expected at Windsor for Easter those two weeks." It was only mid-January. "I'm pretty much tied down until late May."

Marshall continued stroking her hair as he responded. "I'll be in and out of London all through February workin' on my new album. I'd like to spend time with you when I'm in town and I most definitely will be here on Valentine's Day."

Emma sat up and straddled his lap. "How about when you're in town, you stay here with me? That way we can at least be together at night even when we can't find time during the day."

"I'll never turn down the chance to share a bed with my queen...even if it is just to sleep." He cupped her cheek. "How would you feel about bringin' my girls for a visit during Spring Break?"

Emma didn't know what Spring Break was but she nodded. "I'd love to meet your daughter." She replied honestly. "This flat has six bedrooms. They're always welcome...any time they want to come."

"You're fucking perfect," He pulled her in for a kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I think this is the longest chapter so far. I hope everyone enjoys my depiction of the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh. I have based their personalities on everything that I have read about them (which is A LOT because I've idolized both Queen Elizabeth II and Diana, Princess of Wales since I was a little girl) and their depictions in the film The Queen. I've always wondered what would happen if you put Prince Phillip (the Duke of Edinburgh) in the same room as Eminem. Prince Phillip is known for being outspoken and blunt...just like our favorite rapper. He has a bad habit of saying things that while true, aren't exactly PC. As my younger sister once put it after we watched a documentary about the Royal Family, "Holy crap, Prince Phillip is the Eminem of the Royal Family,"

Marshall would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. As he and Emma stood outside the door of the Queen's office his stomach was in knots. Here he was, a street kid from Detroit about to meet the Queen of England...who just so happened to be the love of his life's grandmother.

Yes, as cliché as it sounded, Marshall did consider Emma the love of his life. He had already known that he was in love with but when she had informed him that the daughters that he cherished were always welcome in her home it had sealed the deal in his mind. After meeting Emma's parents he found himself thinking that joining the Windsor clan would be good for his girls. It had always been just the four of them. He didn't have much of an extended family save for his half-brother Nathan who was always off doing his own thing. He had no fucking idea where his father was and he sure as hell didn't want his mother anywhere near his kids. Emma had obviously grown up surrounded by love and laughter and it showed in the amazing person that she was. She had doting parents and grandparents, younger siblings she adored, and a goofy cousin/best friend that was always good for a laugh. It was like she lived in a sitcom. She even had an annoying in-law who was always popping in uninvited.

It was at that moment that a finely dressed, middle-aged black man exited the office and came to address the both of them.

He bowed his head to Emma and spoke to her first. "Your Royal Highness,"

People bowing to his girlfriend was going to take some getting used to, Marshall decided. Emma was so normal and down to earth that it was easy for him to forget that she was actually a princess.

Emma smiled at the older man. "Good afternoon, Geoffrey." She greeted warmly. "Is my grandmother ready to see us?"

Geoffrey nodded. "Yes, ma'am but the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh would like to meet privately with Mr. Mathers first."

Well, this couldn't be fucking good. Who the fuck was the Duke of Edinburgh anyway?

"Grandad's here?" Well, that answered that question but the tone of surprise in Emma's voice couldn't bode well for him. This was obviously abnormal.

"Yes, ma'am," Geoffrey confirmed. He looked down at the gold watch on his wrist. "And we are on a timetable. The Queen has her weekly audience with the Prime Minister at six sharp."

Emma nodded in understanding and shot him an apologetic look.

Well, in for a penny, in for a fucking pound. The things he was willing to do for this woman. He let Geoffrey lead him into the Queen's office.

The Queen's private office looked like a room that Marshall had only ever seen in the movies. She sat behind her famous Resolute Desk. The shiny wooden surface was cluttered with photographs of her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and dogs. He had to smile a bit when he saw a picture of Emma, who couldn't have been older than three, being lead around on a miniature pony by her smiling grandmother. It occupied a place of prominence on the Queen's desk, situated where the obviously loving grandmother could always see it when she was working.

The Queen noticed where he was looking. "She was a beautiful child wasn't she?" She stood from her chair and held out a wrinkled hand.

Remembering Emma's coaching, Marshall bowed his head at the neck. "Your Majesty," He said, before shaking her hand. "Princess Emma still is very beautiful."

He heard a deep chuckle come from beside the desk and gruff voice say, "Good answer,"

Marshall turned to look in the direction of the voice. He found a very wrinkly old man seated in a gilded chair with a smirk on his face. He went to bow his head again but the elderly man held up a hand to stop him.

"Don't bow to me, boy. I used to work for a living. Besides, we only want the public to think we're stiff and formal so they leave us the bloody hell alone."

"Phillip Mountbatten!" The Queen chastised her husband. "You know very well that we have a duty to the peoples of the Commonwealth. They are not meant to leave us alone."

"No sense of humor, this one," Phillip jerked his head in his wife's direction.

Despite the teasing and bickering, it was obvious that the Queen and the Duke were still very much in love after decades together. It was also apparent why Emma didn't have a problem being with an outspoken man like himself. After meeting Harry, her father, and now her grandfather, it was obvious that she had grown up with and surrounded by strong males. He was curious what the hell had gone wrong with William that Kate had him so badly whipped.

He wanted to laugh at the back and forth between the couple but he knew that whatever the reason was that he had been summoned alone, it had to be important. He cut right to the point.

"Ma'am," He said politely as the Queen retook her seat and nodded for him to sit in one of the purple velvet gilt chairs in front of her desk. "Can I ask why wanted to meet me alone?"

"Yes, you may," The Queen nodded. "I want to get to know a bit more about you without my granddaughter's coaching...which it appears she is very adept at from how perfectly you addressed me when you arrived."

For an almost ninety-year-old woman, Queen Elizabeth II was very sharp...Marshall would give her that.

He leaned back in his chair and nodded his head. "I'm an open book, ma'am,"

The Queen folded her hands in front of her and started the interrogation...because that's exactly what this was.

"Were you aware, Mr. Mathers, that Emma receives zero support from the Civil List?"

No, he did not know that seeing as he didn't know what the fuck the Civil List was.

"Ma'am, I prefer to be called Marshall and I honestly have no idea what the Civil List even is."

Phillip explained. "The Civil List is a list of members of the Royal Family that receive yearly support from the taxpayers of the Commonwealth for simply existing. Emma's father removed himself and his children from the list before she was even born."

"Simply put," The Queen continued. "Emma works for her living and has no fortune of her own. Her apartment, her home in Scotland, and even some of her furniture and jewelry will revert back to the Crown upon her death."

So, first order of business...they wanted to make sure that he wasn't after Emma for her money. That thought of being with a woman for money was laughable to him. He worked for everything he had. He didn't need no sugar mama.

He decided to lay all of his cards on the table. The Queen and Duke seemed like the type of people to appreciate blunt honesty.

"Ma'am," He looked the Queen dead in the eye. "With all due respect, I ain't here for Emma's money. I don't think it's polite to discuss finances but in this case, I will. My net worth is close to two hundred million and keeps growing. I don't need or want Emma's money." He kept his voice firm but polite. "I love that woman more than I thought was humanly possible. If she wanted to quit working tomorrow, I'd support her for the rest of her life and be happy to do it...but your granddaughter ain't that type of woman. She's hardworking, independent, and loves what she does. I'm with her because I want someone to share the rest of my life with. I want a mother figure for my daughters who've never really had one. I'd like to have more kids and raise them in a happy home with two parents that love each other. I know I can have all of that with Emma and that's why I'm here." He finished passionately.

The Queen seemed impressed and nodded with a small smile on her face. "Very well, I only have one other concern."

"And what would that be, ma'am?"

Marshall wasn't taking any offense to the questioning. Emma's grandparents very clearly loved her and were simply looking out for her. He could respect that. He WANTED people to look out for his Queen. Truth be told, he could picture himself (and hopefully Emma) having a similar conversation with any man that wanted to get close to his daughters.

"You've met the Duchess of Cambridge?" The Queen asked.

At his confused look, Phillip clarified. "Kate,"

"Yes, ma'am," He nodded. He really hoped that he wasn't about to get bitched out for putting Princess Barbie in her place. That bitch deserved every word that he had said to her. "And I'm not taking a word of what I said to her back. She has no right to continuously let herself into Emma's home and insult her. I don't care if she's going to be Queen one day. I only respect people who earn it."

"Good policy," Phillip nodded his head in agreement.

"Are you saying that you don't respect my position?" The Queen challenged and Marshall caught the Duke rolling his eyes at his wife.

"No, ma'am," Marshall shook his head and the Queen looked flabbergasted and the Duke greatly amused. "But I DO respect you as a person. I respect you as the grandmother that Emma loves. I respect you as the woman who helped to shape the woman of my dreams into the amazing person that she is. Kate has not earned that respect from me."

The Queen nodded. "And I can respect your position on the matter but I wasn't going to demand that apologize. Kate is a grown woman that needs to stop acting like a petulant child."

Now, he was confused. What the fuck were they talking about then?

"Ma'am, I'm confused." He admitted.

The Queen chuckled before explaining. "The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge will one day head the monarchy. The problem that I'm facing is that Kate does not do the work required of her position and since their marriage neither does William. You must have noticed that Emma works long hours? Harry as well?"

Marshall nodded, still unsure of what they were talking about. "Yes, ma'am,"

"Emma and Harry have inherited the best qualities of their late mothers. They do extra royal duties to make up for the work that William and Catherine let fall by wayside. If the monarchy is to survive William's reign, Emma and Harry need to remain in the United Kingdom."

"Is Emma going somewhere, ma'am?" She hadn't said anything to him.

"I'm hoping not," The Queen responded. "But you are an American with very strong ties to Michigan, the same as Emma. I'm worried that if your relationship progresses into marriage, Emma will relocate to the states."

Marshall and Emma hadn't known each other very long but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Emma would never turn her back on her duties and family.

"Ma'am, Emma would never do that," He assured. "And I'd never ask her to," He shook his head. "WHEN this relationship progresses into marriage I'll move me and my girls here and keep my homes in Michigan for vacations. That way we can all have what we want."

The Queen nodded and smiled before reaching into her desk and extracting a manila envelope. She slid it across the desk to him. "Now, I feel much more comfortable giving you this."

Marshall reached forward and took the envelope but he didn't open it. "What's this, ma'am?"

"Credentials for you and your daughters. They will get you past the guards at all royal residences without Emma having to put you on the visitor list every time." She explained.

Marshall had not been expecting that. "Thank you, ma'am," He was being totally sincere.

Phillip stood from his seat and made his way to a small wet bar in the corner of the room. "Lilibet, I think it's time we let Emma in. The poor girl if probably having an anxiety attack out in the hallway." He poured two gin and tonics. "Marshall, would you care for a drink, boy?"

He shook his head. "No, sir, I don't drink."

Phillip nodded and the Queen pressed a buzzer on her desk. "Geoffrey, send Princess Emma in, please."

When Emma arrived in the room she looked positively terrified and before Marshall could assure her that everything was okay, Phillip beat him to it.

"Relax, love, we didn't scare him off. In fact, how do you feel about Westminster for the wedding?"

"What?!" Her eyes bugged out.

Phillip chuckled and Marshall couldn't help but laugh a bit as well.

The old man carried a third glass over to his granddaughter. "Here, cherry brandy, your favorite."

Emma took the glass but still looked confused. "What the bloody hell is going on?"

The Queen shot her granddaughter a disapproving look but didn't correct her language.

Marshall laughed again and took pity on his girlfriend. As she took her the seat beside him, he reached out and took the hand that wasn't holding a drink. "They just wanted to get to know me, baby girl." He figured if Phillip could use pet names with the Queen, he could use pet names with the princess. "And your grandmother gave me clearance to get into your apartment without having you put me on the list...the girls too."

Emma's eyes again bugged out...if she wasn't careful they were going to get stuck that way. She looked to her grandmother. "You gave him credentials? You didn't give those to Kate until after the engagement and her family still doesn't have them."

Phillip scoffed. "That's because we don't want that tart of a sister of hers using this family's name to get pictures of her bum in the papers like she did at the wedding."

Marshall was really starting to like the Duke as he covered a laugh behind a cough.

"Phillip," There was a tone of warning in the Queen's voice but her husband didn't look scared in the least.

"So, when do you plan on announcing your relationship to the public?" The Queen inquired curiously.

Marshall hadn't thought about that yet. He was used to keeping his personal life as private as possible. He knew that was going to have to change. Emma's position required that her life be as public as possible. Relationships, marriages, and births were all fair game for the press. He was struck by a sudden idea.

He turned to Emma. "Do you have a nice dress, baby?"

She laughed. "I'm a princess, love."

She had a valid point. He turned to the Queen. "Ma'am, would it be alright if Emma was my date to an awards show tonight?"

"That would be fine," The Queen nodded. "I hear that you are receiving the lifetime achievement award from the European MTV Video Music Awards. Congratulations, Marshall."

Whoa, did this old woman know fucking everything?

"Thank you, ma'am," He nodded.

"We should get going if I only have a few hours to get ready, love." Emma downed her drink in one gulp.

Damn, baby girl could shoot liquor without a chaser. Most women he knew couldn't do that.

He nodded and stood. He made sure to bow his head to the Queen and shake the Duke's hand before they made their way to the door.

"Oh, Marshall," The Queen called.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Make sure to stop by before you leave tomorrow night to say goodbye," She instructed with a smile.

Holy shit, the Queen actually liked him.

"Yes, ma'am," He smiled at her.

Once they were in the hallway, Emma turned to him with an incredulous look on her face.

"How in the hell do you keep winning over my family so easily? We're harder to infiltrate than the mafia."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He answered when he pulled away. "By being honest, and honestly, I love you."


	10. Chapter 10

As they sat in their rented Hummer limousine awaiting their turn on the red carpet, Emma was close to hyperventilating. This was it. They were about to make their debut as a couple and all of Europe and a good portion of the United States would be watching. To put it mildly...she was fucking terrified.

She was used to public attention, that much was true, but her interactions with the press and public were during events and walkabouts were very controlled and highly choreographed. All she had to do was spin her signet ring when she was receiving unwanted attention and John knew to politely come and rescue her with some excuse. She couldn't do that here. This was Marshall's job. He had to interact with overzealous reporters and crazy fans. It was par for the course. It was how he sold records. She was going to have to get used to this some time and there was no time like the present.

Their limo was the next in line for the red carpet when Marshall surprised her by offering her a compromise. "You know, I could have the driver pull around back and we can go in that way, mama. We can just sit together durin' the show. That's enough statement on our relationship for me,"

Emma had never loved him more than at that moment. He had given her an easy out.

"That sounds perfect," She admitted.

Marshall leaned forward, stealing a kiss along and the way, and instructed the driver of the change in plans.

It was nearing the end of the awards ceremony and Emma was bored out of her mind. She didn't listen to ninety percent of the music nominated. She was either getting old, music was getting horrible, or a combination of the two.

She was barely containing herself from bashing her head into the nearest wall after Taylor Swift's performance when Marshall was finally called upon to accept his award.

She stood with him as the cameras turned to focus on them. He brought a hand to her waist and pulled her in for a quick kiss.

She thought kissing her on camera was going to be as far as Marshall's acknowledgment of her was going to go. She was proven wrong during his acceptance speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it means a lot to me to still be in the game after over twenty years. I appreciate ya'll stickin' with me. There are four lovely ladies that I'd like to thank. First, my daughters, Lainey, Haile, and Whitney, I love you girls with every breath in my body. Lastly, thank you, Emma, for givin' me faith in romance again. I love you, boo,"

Emma had to restrain herself from committing a royal no-no and crying in public.


	11. Chapter 11

When they arrived back at her flat later that night, Marshall called to check up on his girls before the two of them made their way to the bedroom.

"How are the girls?" She asked him as she cuddled up to him in bed.

"Lainey and Hailie are keeping Whitney entertained while I'm gone," He wrapped her in his arms as he pulled the comforter up and over them. "They're gonna be waitin' for me at the airport when I land."

The thought of him leaving made her sad but she knew he would be back in early February to work on his album.

They didn't make love that night. They just enjoyed the intimacy of holding one another.

The next morning neither Emma nor Marshall wanted to get out of bed but they knew they had to.

They had breakfast alone before her parents and Harry had stopped in to say goodbye to Marshall. They took an afternoon stroll in Kensington Gardens and did a little shopping in the local shops.

They had stopped in at a little tourist trap t-shirt shop to have novelty t-shirts printed up for the girls (a tradition whenever he went out of town, she was told) when the press finally caught up with them.

As they were leaving the shop with purchases in hand, a reporter holding her iPhone out like tape recorder managed to corner them.

"Princess Emma, what is the state of your relationship with Eminem? Are the two of you dating?" The reporter was American and obviously did not know that not only would Emma not answer her questions...she was forbidden to.

She just smiled politely as John shooed the woman off.

As they continued walking, Emma noticed that Marshall had suddenly gone quiet since their run-in with the Lois Lane wannabe.

When they reached her favorite place in Kensington Gardens, the Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Playground, she led him over to sit on a bench.

"Okay, out with it. What did I do to hack you off?" She demanded.

Marshall looked at her with a cold expression on his face. "Am I your man or not?"

And that was when it clicked and she rushed to explain. "Of course you're my man...I'm just not ALLOWED to say that in public. It's a family rule. You can talk about our relationship and we can be seen together in public but I won't be able to acknowledge out relationship until we get engaged and the engagement's been announced by the palace."

Marshall's expression softened and he smirked at her, raising an eyebrow. "You talk about us getting' engaged like it's a sure thing," He teased to let her know that he understood and that he wasn't mad at her.

Emma blushed and started trying to explain herself but Marshall laughed and pulled her to sit on his lap. "Relax, of course, you're gettin' a ring, mama,"

"I am?" She was dumbfounded.

Marshall nodded. "Yep, just as soon as you get to know my girls and we're more comfortable in this relationship. I'd say you should have a ring on your finger by the end of the year. Want to know what my plans are for next year?" He asked with a mischievous look on his face.

"Yes?" Emma half asked. She was still too stunned by his previous statement and was a tad scared to hear his plans. This was still Eminem she was dating.

"I'm gonna marry you and have you knocked up before Halloween," He sounded very sure of himself.

Emma's heart as in her throat and she didn't know what to say so she just laid her head on his shoulder and kissed his neck.


	12. Chapter 12

It was six in the evening and his plane would leave in two hours. Marshall found himself once again about to come face-to-face with the Queen. This time, they were meeting in the old woman's private sitting room.

When they were lead into the room, Marshall remembered to bow at the neck and address the Queen properly.

"It's so good to see you both," The Queen looked tired and did not rise and the Duke was nowhere to be seen.

Emma bent down to kiss her grandmother's cheek. "Hey, Granny. Where's granddad?" She looked around.

"County Cork, Ireland," The Queen responded tersely. "Apparently, the walkabout that William and Catherine did last week left a lot of the Irish with a bad taste in their mouths. Your granddad is doing damage control."

It didn't take a genius to figure out that the Queen was pissed so Marshall figured they would make this a quick visit.

"We just wanted to stop in so I could say goodbye, ma'am," He explained their presence.

"When will you be coming back to the U.K.?" The Queen pushed herself out of her armchair.

"I'll be in and out all through February and I'm bringing my girls for a visit in March," Marshall answered as he watched the Queen rooting around for something in the drawer of a side table.

"Speaking of March," She said as she finally located what she had been searching for...four envelopes with the Royal Seal. "Phillip and I were speaking last night and we would very much like it if you and your daughters would join our family at Windsor for Easter." She passed him the envelopes.

"We'd love to, ma'am," He accepted.

The girls were going to flip the fuck out.

The drive to the airport was spent in almost total silence. All Emma did was stare out the window of the town car as the rain that had started as they left the palace poured down outside. 

Marshall was just about to say something to break the silence when she beat him to it.

"You are coming back, right?" She asked meekly.

Was his queen so insecure that she thought he would leave her after the weekend they had shared together? He had told her he loved her, something he'd only told a handful of people in his life and didn't say lightly. He had met a good portion of the royal family. He had taken her virginity and they had discussed marriage and babies for fuck's sake!

He reached into the pocket of his jeans and took out his key-ring. He took his house key off of the ring and pressed it into the palm of her hand.

"What...?" She began but Marshall hushed her with a soft kiss to her lips.

When he pulled back he cupped her cheek in his hand. "I will ALWAYS come back to you but just in case I don't one day, this is the key to my house. I'll have security put you on the list of people allowed in. you'll always have a home with me." He sealed his promise with a kiss and wiped away her tears as they fell.

It took a lot to get Marshall Mathers to cry. He could count six times that he had cried in his life. The day Ronnie died. The day Hailie was born. The day he had adopted Lainey. The day buried Proof and the day he had adopted Whitney. But now, as his plane taxied off the runway and carried him away from London and away from Emma, he cried.


	13. Chapter 13

Emma arrived at Harry's place an hour earlier than their planned meeting on Monday morning in the vain hope of beating Kate there...no such luck. Princess Barbie (damn Marshall to hell for getting that nickname stuck in her head) was seated prettily on the sofa with little George seated beside her and baby Charlotte toddling around the room.

Seeing as Kate wasn't paying attention and Charlotte was heading towards a glass piano knick knack that had belonged to her Aunt Diana, Emma scooped the baby up as she entered the room.

"Hello there, bumblebee, that is not for you," She planted a kiss on her nose, making the little girl giggle. She set Charlotte down on the sofa and leaned down to kiss George's cheek. "Good morning, Georgie,"

"Morning," The little boy replied distractedly as he tried to take apart his mum's iPhone.

Emma could have stopped him...but she didn't want to. Kate could consider in karma for not taking better care of her kids.

With a tight, forced smiled she finally turned to Kate, "Good morning, Kate,"

Kate's smile was more of a sneer as she replied, "Good morning, Emma. Where is your boyfriend?" She said the word boyfriend like it was poison on her tongue.

Emma rolled her eyes. "He flew home to Detroit to take care of his daughters...you know, like a good parent does." She took a direct stab at Kate's parenting skills.

She struck a nerve.

"No, he can more than afford a nanny." Kate shook her head. "He was just tired of playing with his chubby, princess, PR dream action figure so he put you on the shelf until he needs you again." She gathered up her children and left.

Emma was left once again feeling like she had been punched in the stomach.

When Harry finally arrived in the living room he was met with silence.

"What the hell happened?" He watched as Emma wiped away a tear that had escaped. "Bullocks, do I have to murder Kate?"

DETROIT, MICHIGAN

TWO DAYS LATER

It had been two days since Marshall had heard from his queen and was starting to get pissed. She wasn't answering text or e-mails nor was she returning his calls. Everything had been fine between them when he left London. What the fuck had happened?

He looked at the royal residence access cards that sat on his desk then he remembered that it was Friday and Whitney had just been released from school for a week-long winter break.

He stood from his desk and walked to the safe he kept in the wall behind a portrait of his girls. He took out his and Whitney's passports.

He called Hailie and Lainey at school and told them his plans and booked two seats on an afternoon flight to England.

Once he had everything in place, he again tried to call Emma. Her cell phone went straight to voicemail and her secretary claimed that she wasn't in the office. Frustrated as all hell he hung up his office phone and went and told Whitney to pack for a week in London.


	14. Chapter 14

It was a little after one in the morning when he pulled his rented Escalade into a parking space close to Emma's Kensington Palace apartment after showing his credentials to the guard on duty at the gate.

When he and Whitney arrived at her door, John granted the two of them access without question.

Marshall had Whitney wait in the living room while he silently made his way back to Emma's bedroom.

He pushed open the door and tip-toed in, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could.

When he saw her lying in her bed, a lot of his frustration melted away.

She was wearing one of his old tour t-shirts that looked like it had seen better days and a pair of black cotton bikini-style panties. She had kicked her blankets away and her hair was a hot mess. It looked like she had been tossing and turning in her sleep but what really tugged on his heartstrings were the tear stains on her cheeks. Who the fuck had put those there?!

He sat on the bed at her side and reached out a hand and caressed her cheek, "Wake up, Em,"

The combination of his voice and his touch pulled her from sleep.

"Marshall?" She asked in a sleepy little voice that sounded like she had been crying. "What are you doing here?" She pushed herself into a seated position.

"My queen suddenly stopped talking to me so I got worried," He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Know what's up with that, mama?"

Emma gave him a guilty smile. "You really came all the way to London because you were worried about me?"

"Me and Whitney both," He confirmed.

Her eyes bugged out a bit. "Whitney's here?"

"Yep, out in the living room,"

Emma glanced over at her alarm clock and noticed the late hour. "Why don't you go show the poor girl to one of the guest rooms so she can sleep? I'm going to have a bath. You can meet me in there and we'll talk,"

When he arrived in the bathroom, he found Emma soaking in the claw foot tub with bubbles up to her neck. It was almost like she was hiding herself from him...wait, is that what she was doing? Had someone made her feel ashamed of her curvy figure? He knew she was sensitive about it even if she never said anything. Everyone in her family was stick-thin or muscular. She was the only one with curves. He had no idea why she was embarrassed by it. She had tits and hips that put Marilyn Monroe to shame and an ass like a Kardashian...except Emma's was God given.

Deciding that he wasn't going to let his queen sit around feeling bad about herself and that he wasn't going to let body issues ruin their relationship, he quickly stripped out of his clothes and joined her in the tub.

"So, why were you ignoring me, Emma?" He asked once she had settled her back against his chest and he had wrapped his arms around her middle. He made sure to rest his hands on the soft skin of her stomach to let her know that not only did he know it was there but that he also liked it.

"I got into it with Kate on Monday morning and she said something..." She admitted softly.

Of course, the royal bitch had something to do with it. He was quickly learning that if Emma was upset or feeling bad about herself, Kate was probably involved.

"What did Princess Barbie say this time?" He huffed. "And why would it make you shut me out?"

"She said that you left because you were done playing with your chubby princess, P.R. dream action figure," There was tremble to her words as though she was holding back tears.

That was it. He was going to put a stop to Kate's bullshit before he had to leave again. He was so far past done that he couldn't even see it in the rearview mirror.

He gripped her shoulders and forced her to turn and face him in the tub. Water splashed all over the bathroom but he didn't care.

He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. "Please, tell me you're not dumb enough to believe anything that comes out of that bitch's mouth? You should know by now that if Princess Barbie's lips are movin', the girl is lyin'"

He didn't release her chin but she still cast her eyes down to the water. "I know you're not using me for good press. You hate publicity,"

Okay, so the woman had some sense in her head. "But, I got to thinking..." This couldn't in any be good.

"You're this huge celebrity with millions of fans all over the world. I'm a low-ranking grace-and-favor princess who is hated all around by the future Queen Consort. I either spend my days at my office running my mum's memorial fund or running all over the country on official visits. During my off months, I volunteer at a local kindergarten and closet myself up with family at Balmoral, Sandringham, and Windsor. I go to my country home in Scotland and go riding and read. I'm completely boring!"

She was just tearing herself down piece by piece. Marshall decided he was only going to listen to this for a few more minutes before he put a firm stop to it.

"Despite what people think - I'm not rich. I make the same as a schoolteacher and I get a yearly allowance from my father. I'm comfortable at best. I own exactly one piece of jewelry. The rest of my jewelry and both of my homes belong to the Crown. Kate is right...I AM chubby and I'm not that pretty. I have generic features at best, my tummy isn't flat, and I have a big bum. I exercise all of the time but I never get any smaller. You're Eminem, you should be with a supermodel,"

What the fuck?! Did she have a fucking trick mirror that lied to her and told her she was ugly? Where did she come up with this shit?

He had heard enough.

He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her almost roughly in order to get her to shut the hell up.

They were both breathing heavily when he pulled away.

He kept his grip on the back of her head and put their foreheads together. "I don't ever want to hear that shit again," He told her huskily. "I don't give a fuck how much money you have. I'm rich enough for both of us, mama," He chuckled darkly and took his hands and ran them down to her ass. "And you, my queen, are the most beautiful fucking woman that I've ever fucking seen. Your eyes are even bluer than mine and Hailie's and there always shinin'. Your hair is naturally a color that women pay hundreds of dollars to get." He gave her ass a firm squeeze. "And I love this ass, mama. I love how I can grab onto it when I'm making love to you." He trailed his hands up and cupped her full breasts. "These tits, well baby a lot of women would pay to get these tits. I fucking love how they overflow out of my hands." He finally ran his hand over her stomach. "And your stomach is flat, it's just soft and doesn't have definition. To me, that's how a woman should look ." He caressed her stomach under the water. "To me, a woman with a stomach like yours has a childbearing body. You look like you're ready and healthy enough to carry my child...something I want you to do for me in the very near future." He brought his hand up and cupped her cheek. "You are the perfect woman for me. You're perfect all the way around, Emma. I know a whole lot of men who would agree with me and fucking kill to be in my shoes," It was the truth. Marshall was just lucky that he had found her before anyone else with eyes and a brain came along.

"But I only want to be perfect for you," She whispered with a small smile on her face as a few tears ran down her cheeks.

He smiled warmly at her. "You already are, sweetheart," He kissed her nose. "You've been perfect for me ever since the moment I heard you assault Harry with a stapler."

He made her laugh but she suddenly turned serious again.

"I'm sorry, Marshall," She said sincerely. "I shouldn't have let Kate get into my head but you have to understand. I've fancied you since I was a little girl. At boarding school, other girls had posters of Justin Timberlake and Nick Carter over their beds...I had a poster of you. Sometimes it's hard for me to believe that you're mine and you actually want me,"

He grabbed her hips and pulled her to straddle his lap with his arms wrapped tightly around her. "Well, I am here. I find it fucking adorable that you had my poster and I think it's the sweetest damn thing that you sleep in a t-shirt with my face on it when I'm not around. Baby girl, I want you with every ounce of my being. I love you, Emma and you have nothing to be sorry for. Look at the end result...you got me and Whitney for a full week," He gave her a quick kiss and then pulled back a little bit.

He reached behind his neck and unhooked the clasp of the Sobriety Circle and Triangle chain that he had worn since the day he had gotten clean.

He took it and secured it around a stunned Emma's neck. The pendant came to rest just below her breasts.

"Marshall, love, why are you giving me this?" She must have been enough of a fan to know how important the chain was to him.

"Because," He kissed her forehead. "You said you only own one piece of jewelry...now you own two. You own that necklace just like you own my heart."

Emma leaned forward and buried her face in his neck. "I love you so much," She spoke her declaration into his skin.

He kissed her temple, "I love you too, baby girl." He lightly smacked her ass. "Now, come on, let's get out of here and dried off. The water's getting cold and I think we could both use a good night's sleep,"

As Marshall fell asleep in the early morning hours with a naked Emma curled up to his chest, his youngest child asleep down the hall, and the knowledge that his two oldest were safe at school, all was again right in Marshall's world.


	15. Chapter 15

Marshall would have been a world class liar if he said that he wasn't concerned about how Emma would get along with his girls. As crazy as it fucking sounded, that, and the Queen's approval, which he knew he had to get, were the only things stopping him from buying her a ring. The moment all three of his girls said they were cool with her, he was going to the Queen for her permission to marry her granddaughter.

The next morning he was happy to discover that he had no reason to worry about Emma and Whitney not getting along.

He had risen late; the clock informing him that it was half past ten. He reached beside him only to discover his girlfriend missing from the bed.

Slowly getting out of bed, he shuffled into the living room.

He liked what he found.

Emma was seated on the sofa with her feet curled under her and a cup of tea in her hands. She was again wearing his old tour t-shirt, this time paired with a pair of Green Arrow pajama pants. She in no way matched and she had her messy blonde hair pinned behind her head with a clip. She looked fucking beautiful.

Whitney was dressed in her favorite Michigan State pajamas and was standing at one of the many knick knack shelves that Emma had scattered around the room and asking questions about the items on it.

Emma was happily answering every question.

Marshall stood hidden in the doorway and watched and listened.

Whitney grabbed a stuffed animal off of the shelf. "What is this? And why do you have a stuffed animal in your living room?"

Emma chuckled and reached for the soft toy. "This is William the Wombat,"

Whitney took a seat on the sofa beside her. "Isn't your cousin's name William?"

"Sure is," Emma nodded. "He's the one who gave him to me." She explained. "When I was eight I went away to boarding school and I was homesick. The Prime Minister of Australia had given this to William when he visited the country when he was a baby. He sent him to me to keep me company at school."

So, William did have a heart, Marshall was surprised to discover. Kate must have locked it away in a box somewhere like the good evil queen that she was.

"If you and my dad get married are you going to send me away to boarding school? What about if you guys have more kids?" You could hear the slight worry in the teenager's tone of voice.

Marshall was curious to know the answer to this question himself. He didn't like the idea of sending his kids away for most of the year.

"Not if you didn't want to go," Emma shook her head. "There are plenty of posh day schools here in London. I wouldn't send any of my kids away if they didn't want to go,"

Marshall saw relief pass over his daughter's face as she quickly changed the subject.

"Do you play?" She nodded towards the white baby grand piano in the corner of the room. "My dad does,"

Another question Marshall was curious to hear the answer to.

Emma laughed again. "Goodness, no, I'm horrible. Maybe your dad can get some use out of it."

Whitney looked at her in confusion. "Why do you have a piano if you don't know how to play?"

A look of sadness passed over Emma's face. "It belonged to my mum and she died when I was very little. My Aunt Diana took it when my mum died and then she passed away in a car crash. I've had it ever since. It reminds me of them."

"I don't really know my mom. Dad keeps her away because she has problems." Whitney tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "And my Uncle Proof was shot and killed when I was little I miss him. Do you miss your mom and aunt?"

Emma passed over William the Wombat for the girl to hug.

"Just like you, I didn't really know my mum because I was so little when she died." She answered. "I miss my Aunt Diana every day,"

She watched as Whitney cuddled the stuffed animal. "You know, you can hand onto him."

"Really?" The teen was amazed.

Emma nodded and Whitney leaned forward and hugged her.

If Marshall hadn't been in love before that right there would have done the trick.

"How are you beautiful ladies this morning?" He finally stepped into the room.

"Morning daddy," Whitney beamed.

"Morning, kiddo," He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Nice stuffed animal,"

Whitney hugged it closer. "Emma gave him to me,"

Marshall was looking into Emma's eyes when he replied, "That was really sweet of her."

He leaned down and gave her a sweet, chaste kiss.


	16. Chapter 16

The rest of the day had been spent doing pretty much everything that Whitney wanted to do. Marshall and Emma both felt bad about dragging the teenager across an ocean because of their relationship issues...not that Whitney seemed to mind too much. They had spent a few hours touring Buckingham Palace and its grounds and they had visited the Tower of London to view the Crown Jewels.

Because Emma wanted to check in they stopped by her office at St. James Palace where they ran into Harry.

He was just walking out of Emma's office and gave a surprised start upon seeing Marshall.

"Marshall, I didn't expect to see you again so soon, mate," He shook his hand and then turned to Whitney who was looking at the prince like she was witnessing the second coming of Christ. "I know he has three...which daughter are you, love?"

Whitney appeared to have lost her ability to talk...Marshall had never seen that happen before.

He waved a hand in front of her face and Emma laughed and prodded, "Speak, blue bird." She had taken to calling Whitney that earlier in the day and Marshall wasn't really sure why. All he knew was that his daughter really seemed to like the fact that Emma had her own special nickname for her.

"I'm...Whit...Whitney, sir," Whitney finally managed to spit out while giving a small curtsey.

Harry laughed warmly and waved his hand. "Don't do that, love. We're mates."

Whitney blushed a deep scarlet and Marshall really hoped that she knew that in the UK mate meant friend.

Harry finally turned to address his cousin, "I was stopping by because Granny has a job for you this evening but I forgot the file in my office," He pointed down the corridor. "Won't be but a sec." He jogged off down the hallway.

"Does he call everyone love?" Whitney asked Emma with a dreamy look that Marshall didn't like on her face.

"Only people he likes," Emma winked at her. She was not helping calm the girl's puppy dog crush AT ALL.

Marshall glared at his girlfriend but she just rolled her eyes at him.

"What does he call Kate?" Whitney wondered innocently and Marshall snorted. He had a few ideas.

"You don't want to know, blue bird, trust me," Emma answered as she led the two of them into her office.


	17. Chapter 17

Harry arrived back in the office only a few moments later clutching a purple file folder in is hand. “You're not going to like this.” He told her as he handed it over.

Opening the file, Emma scanned the contents and saw red when she read the handwritten note from her grandmother.

Em-Em,

Kate claims that she is too ill to attend. I know Marshall and his daughter are in town but would you please attend in Kate's stead? William is on-duty tonight and Harry is expected at the Royal Ballet for a benefit. I don't think it wise to send you Uncle Charles or his wife.

Marshall and Whitney are welcome and encouraged to attend with you...I have a strong feeling they will be around for a good bit. We might as well integrate them into our way of life now. Please, bring Whitney by tomorrow at three for tea. I would love to meet her.

All my love,

Granny

“What is it, mama?” Marshall got her attention and Emma passed him the letter.

She watched as he quickly read it over before passing it over to Whitney.

“What kind of event does she want us to go to?” He asked.

“The Annual Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Fund dinner,” Emma responded through gritted teeth. “Granny made Kate patron of the fund when she married Wills and as usual she's skiving her duty,”

“I'm meeting the Queen of England tomorrow?” Whitney interrupted in shock.

She was surprised when Harry reached out a hand and squeezed the girl's hand.

“Don't worry, love,” He assured her. “Granny's been going on and on about your dad since she met him. She's beeing looking forward to meeting you and your sisters.”

Whitney blushed before she asked, “Are you going to be there?”

“Do you want me to be?” Harry smiled warmly at her.

The girl nodded shyly.

Marshall stood abruptly, “Baby, can I talk to you in the other room?”

Confused, Emma followed him to the small, empty waiting area where she was taken he put his fist through the wood paneling of the wall.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” She asked with a mixture of anger and shock.

“What the fuck is the matter with me?!” He snarled. “What the fuck is the matter with your pedophile cousin mackin' on my little girl?!”

Oh, that was his problem. While she would admit that Harry's taste ran towards younger women she also knew that Whitney was way too young for him.

She rolled her eyes. “He's not interested in Blue Bird like that.” She shook her head. “He's treating her the exact same way he's always treated me. He's treating her like family. He's always been an affectionate person.” She defended Harry. “And I can't fucking believe that you think that I would let ANYONE, family or not, take advantage of one of your girls!” Now she was the one who was pissed.

“You've been encouraging her crush!” Marshall argued, not yet ready to back down.

“Yes, I am,” Emma nodded. “The exact same way that Harry encouraged my crush on you. Do you know why I call Whitney Blue Bird?”

Marshall shook his head.

“Because that's what my mum used to call me...and Whitney reminds me so much of me at her age,” Emma said a little brokenly. “She's seen and been through a lot for someone so young. I hate to break it to you but that girl is never going to be happy with someone her own age because boys her age are always going to be too immature for her. So, yes, I'm encouraging her crush.” She admitted a second time. “I'm hoping that maybe when she's older Harry WILL look at her that way. You don't have to believe me but I love that kid, enough though I just met her and I want her to have what I have with you some day...and honestly, I'm overprotective of the people I love and Harry's one of the only people on earth that I would trust with the heart of the girl that I BADLY want to call my daughter because I know that he will never hurt her.” She had tears streaming down her face now.

Something seemed to snap inside of Marshall and before Emma knew it, he had her up against the wall with his hands on either side of her head on the wood, his lips desperately seeking hers out. Emma didn't know what had gotten into him but she liked this a lot more than the yelling...which she really, REALLY hoped that Whitney and Harry hadn't heard. Luckily the building was ancient with thick walls and doors...sound didn't travel very far. She really wouldn't have cared if it had once Marshall's hand traveled down to her hip and he pulled her flush against him. She had to force herself to pull away before they ended up fucking against the wall with his daughter and her cousin right in the next room. Plus, they really needed to talk.

“What the bloody fuck is going on?” She panted as he started placing feather-soft kisses up and down her neck.

“I want you to have my baby.” His lips were at her ear now and he was whispering, his breath on her skin making her shiver.

She already knew that he wanted her to have his child, even if she had momentarily forgotten during her little breakdown, but the way he said it now was more urgent...like he wanted it immediately.

“I want you to be the mom that Whitney's never had. I want you to be there for Hailie and Lainey. Let me have you tonight without a rubber, please baby,” She felt his lips moving against her ear as he spoke.

Of all the things on God's green earth that he could have said, she had in no way been expecting THAT. What he asked of her was so appealing and she wanted it so badly but she knew she couldn't have it...at least not yet.

“You know we can't love,” She kissed the corner of his mouth when he leaned back to look at her. “It would be a scandal that the monarchy couldn't handle if I got pregnant out of wedlock. I couldn't do that to Granny.”

Marshall smiled as he caught both of her hands in his and interlocked their fingers. “Marry me, Emma,” He demanded.


	18. Chapter 18

“Marry me, Emma,” He demanded.

He was trying to kill her, she was convinced of it.

She shook her head, “We don't have Granny's approval and I haven't even met Hailie and Lainey yet. Don't you want to make sure that your kids are on board with us getting married?”

Marshall just smirked and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and hit the first number on speed dial.

“Hey, kiddo,” He greeted whoever was on the other end of the line. “It Hailie there? I need to talk to you both.” As he waited for his other daughter, he put the phone on speaker.

“Alrighty, Pops, Hailie's here...what's up?” Emma heard Lainey's voice for the first time.

“Girls, you're on speaker,” He told them. “Say hi to Emma,”

“Hi, Emma!” The girls chorused.

She laughed, “Hello, girls,”

“Hailie, Lainey, if I told you that I wanted to marry Emma...what would you say?” He was smirking like he already knew what their answers would be. “She's scared ya'll will be upset if she says yes without meeting you first.”

Both girls started squealing...loudly.

“Say yes!” Lainey encouraged.

“We're totally cool with it,” Hailie assured. “Daddy's been way happier since you've been in the picture.”

“And Whitney's been texting me all day...she loves you. That's all I need to know.” Lainey added.

Once Marshall and Emma had said their goodbyes and he had disconnected the call, he looked at her expectantly.

“What about Granny?” That was her last worry. “We still need her approval.”

“You know bloody well that Granny's going to approve.”

Emma jumped and turned to find Harry and Whitney standing in the doorway with smiles on their faces.

“Lainey told me what was going on,” Whitney held up her cell phone. “And I want you to say yes too.”

Marshall smiled at her before dropping to one knee in front of her and reaching for her hand. “Let me do this the right way. Emma Alexis Diana Elizabeth Windsor,” Tears started to flow freely down her face. “I love you more than I thought I could love another person besides my girls...and now I want them to be your girls too. I want to have more babies with you. I want to spend the rest of my life proving to the little girl that had my poster above her bed that I'm worthy of her love. Will you marry me, baby girl?”

Emma nodded as she pulled him back to his feet and kissed him. “Yes,” She answered when they pulled apart.

Not even Kate walking in dampened their happiness.

“What's going on?” The perfectly healthy looking Duchess asked.

Harry smirked, “They're getting married.”

Kate turned on her heels and left without another word.

“Your ring is going to be so much bigger than hers,” Marshall whispered against Emma's lips.

She laughed as Whitney ran over and threw her arms around them both.

“I take it you're happy?” Marshall asked as they each put an arm around the teenager.

“Yep!” She nodded and hugged Emma closer. “Welcome to the family...Mom.”

This made the tears start up all over again.


	19. Chapter 19

The second day that he was in London, Marshall had risen before the sun. Leaving, very reluctantly, a thoroughly loved Emma in bed, he had scribbled a quick note to explain his absence in case she woke up before he returned.

He spent an hour at a recording studio in the West End working on something special for Kate. After that, he was taken to his favorite jeweler in London, Henry Winston. He had called ahead and at this early hour, 5:30 in the morning, the store was only going to be open for him.

As he browsed through a selection of one of a kind engagement rings, he pulled out his cell phone and called one of his best friends out in California.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Dude, do you have an idea what fucking time it is?!” Snapped the deep voice of Shemar Moore.

The two of them had met during the production of 8 Mile. Shemar had gone out for a part and hadn't gotten it but the two of them had been tight ever since.

“Fuck!” Marshall had forgotten about the time difference. “Sorry, bro...”

“You know I have three kids, my momma living with me, AND a pregnant wife, right?” Shemar sounded more awake and more annoyed.

Yes, Marshall did know all of these things.

“Yeah, I'm sorry.” He said again. “Forgot the time difference. How is Scotty?”

Shemar's voice had lupus and her pregnancy was very high risk.

“Doc says her and the baby are healthy,” Shemar was a little friendlier as he spoke about his wife. “But, and don't get me wrong, I adore Scotland, I swear to Christ that someone has kidnapped my real baby girl and replaced her with a demonic serial killer. I'm scared I'm going to wake up one night and find her standing over me with a knife.” He ranted.

Marshall laughed. “Welcome to pregnancy, dude.” Was it weird that he was looking forward to going through all of the with Emma?

He picked up one ring and set it right back down. While the rock was bigger than Kate's. The rectangular cut was ugly and he was pretty sure Emma would kill him if he bought her a pink diamond.

“What the hell did you want so early anyway?” Shemar asked.

“I'm getting married.” He got to the point of his call.

“Yeah, to Princess Emma but the press doesn't know yet so I have to keep it a secret.” Shemar rattled off. “Our daughters are best friends...I've known since last night.”

“Well, I'm going to throw Emma kind of a secret engagement party Friday night that's going to be family only. You guys are the closest to family that I've got and I wanted you to be there.”

“We'll be there,” Shemar promised.

It was as he was hanging up the phone that he saw it. It wasn't traditional by any means but it was perfect for Emma. When he went purchase the ring he learned that it was an antique with a very unique history...and it cost three million pounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Demonic serial killer” that is exactly what my husband says I act like while pregnant. This will make sense later as per usual...


	20. Chapter 20

Marshall slipped back into the apartment just before seven and found that both Whitney and Emma were still asleep.

Once he was in the privacy of the bedroom, he stripped down to his boxer-briefs and, taking the ring from its box, climbed back into bed. Careful not to wake her, he slipped the engagement ring on Emma’s left hand and, spooning up behind his lady, almost immediately drifted off back to sleep.

“Bleeding Christ!”

Marshall opened his eyes only a couple of hours later to find Emma sitting up in bed beside him, examining the ring on her finger.

“I know I told you your rock would be bigger but I decided to go for better instead.” He told her in a voice still husky with sleep.

Emma smiled. He knew that her happiness had nothing at all to do with the size of the ring.

“It’s so Slytherin,” She gushed.

And that was exactly why it had caught his eye in the first place. He knew that besides him, Emma’s other great love as a teenager had been the Harry Potter series. She related to the Slytherin characters. Educated and often rich, their lives were usually ruled bu the archaic beliefs and traditions of the past. It was a life that Emma knew all too well.

The Slytherin house mascot was a snake and the band of the ring consisted of two black-gold cobras supporting a large sapphire with a bunch of smaller sapphires along the band. Slytherin house was often associated with the Dark Arts in the Harry Potter books.

Marshall sat up and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes quickly before starting to explain more about the ring. “Now only is that rock better than Kate’s, it’s also kind of connected to your Aunt Diana.”

“How do you mean?” She looked at him curiously as she moved to straddle his hips and sit in his lap.

Marshall had to push down the desire that was building feeling her naked body against his and having her full breasts directly in his line of sight in order to finish his explanation. “It belonged to her grandmother, Countess Cynthia Spencer. It was sold off at an estate sale in the eighties and found its way into my jewelers hands.”

Tears pooled in Emma’s eyes as she leaned forward and gently kiss him.

“I love it...almost as much as I love you.” She told him as she pulled away.

Marshall was about to take things a whole lot further but a knock on the bedroom door stopped him cold.

“Daddy? Emma? Can I come in?”


	21. Chapter 21

“Daddy, Emma, can I come in?”

Marshall waited for Emma to pull on his t-shirt and put her lower half beneath the blankets before telling his daughter to come in.

“What’s up, Whit?” He asked as the teenager sat at the foot of the bed.

“I’m meeting the Queen today.” She picked at her fingernails. “And I’m kinda freaking out. Plus, Harry’s going to be there. I don’t know what I was thinking asking him to be there.” She rambled.

It was way too early for this Dawson’s Creek bullshit, Marshall thought before he realized, with both relief and astonishment, that his daughter wasn’t rambling to him...or even them...she was rambling to Emma.

The woman in question chuckled warmly.

“You’re not meeting the Queen until three and it’s not even half nine yet.” She pointed out. “And why are you nervous? I swear, we stopped lopping off people’s heads years ago.” Emma joked.

Whitney laughed, “What am I supposed to wear? What do I say to her?” She fired off her questions quickly.

Emma leaned forward and rubbed her arm. “I’ll help you get dressed and addressing her is really very simple...if your dad can do it, you can do it.”

“Sittin’ right here, momma...” Marshal reminded her. “Be nice, boo.”

“I’m saying that you’re daft, I’m just saying that Whitney has a bit more culture than you,” Emma smirked.

She was goofing around to take Whitney’s mind off of her anxiety and he knew it, so Marshall played along.

“Woman, who do you think raised the kid...Santa Claus?”

Whitey began to laugh at that.

“And why are you worried about Harry being there?” Emma finally got around to asking. “I can’t call and ask him not to come...he canceled appointments to be there.”

Marshall wasn’t sure how he felt about this information.

“I have a crush on him and I act stupid when he’s around.” The teenager huffed. “What if I end up doing something really dumb in front of the Queen?”

After seeing her initial meeting with Harry, Marshall could understand his daughter’s worry. When Harry was around, his normally bright and bubbly daughter turned into someone most closely resembling a female Rainman.

Emma laughed again. “What you need to remember about Harry is that he’s a normal person and not some Disney character.” She advised. “He’s a cheeky git with a heart of gold who can make you want to murder him on a good day. The only difference between him and a bloke in your school is that a few times a year, we let Harry dress up and play with a sword in public.”

Marshall snorted and Whitney full on belly laughed.

Appeased for the moment, Whitney changed the topic of conversation.

“Now that you two are engaged...what do I call you?” She looked at Emma, who, unsure of what to do, looked to Marshall.

He really had to think for a moment before establishing a response. “As long as you know and respect that Kim is the woman who gave you life, you can call Emma what you both feel comfortable with.”

“How about Mom?” Whitney was looking at her feet as she asked.

Marshall caught Emma wiping a tear away before she responded in a voice cracking with emotion, “I’d really like that.”

Whitney simply stood and gave her a quick hug before quickly leaving the room in her teenage attempt to avoid heavy emotions.

Seeing the shock still all over Emma’s face, Marshall pulled her into his arms.

“You and your girls are trying to kill me.” She spoke into his neck. “I’m on emotional overload.”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “We just love you, momma.”

“Now when you call me that, I guess it’s true...” She said, a touch of awe in her tone.

“You okay with that?” He looked down and studied her face.

She sat up a bit and looked at him with a small smile. “I’m more than okay with that.” She nodded firmly.

“Wanna work on makin’ another little person to call you Momma?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Soon.” She promised as she leaned forward to kiss him.


	22. Chapter 22

Later that afternoon, Emma was watching in amusement as Whitney bounced up and down in her seat as Marshall them to Buckingham Palace.

“Curtsy, your royal highness, and than ma'am.” The girl was repeating over and over again while com[ulsively smoothing her hand over the yellow lace sundress that Emma had helped her to pick out.

Emma laughed as Marshall drove through the palace gates.

“Relax, Blue Bird, you'll be fine. I promise.” She assured as Marshall parked next to a navy blue 1967 Jaguar XKE.

“Whoa.” Whitney eyed the car as Marshall found a parking space. “I think I just found my dream car.”

This time, Marshall laughed. “Then you better get a real good job because I'm not buying you a car that goes that fast.”

Whitney glared at him as the three of them got out of the SUV.

“You could always ask Harry to take you for a ride,” Emma smirked. “That's his car.”

“And look at that...my nerves are back.”

Whitney managed to survive introducing herself to the Queen without incident. She had even managed to stay her normal color when greeting Harry.

As the small group sat around a small round table in the Queen's private sitting room, Emma started the conversation.

“Granny, Marshall and I have some news...”

The Queen smiled knowingly. “Does this have anything to do with the reason why Kate is going around complaining about you marrying a disgusting rapper?” There was a great amount of humor to the old woman's tone.

Emma nodded as she reached her hand under the table and took a hold of Marshall's. “Marshall's asked me to marry him and I've said yes.” She was nervous and it must have shown because her fiance gave her hand a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

The Queen's smile grew a little wider. “And I take it you are here to seek my blessing to wed?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Marshall nodded curtly.

“I will admit that I knew this was coming, I just didn't expect it this soon.” The Queen in no way looked or sounded displeased. “No matter...you have my blessing. Phillip will be thrilled. He's taken a liking to you, Marshall. We can discuss making an announcement to the press and titles later.”

Titles? Emma hadn't really thought about that. She was so far down the royal ladder that she had just naturally assumed that her husband and children wouldn't be offered any titles. Before she had a chance to speak, Marshall beat her to the punch.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Emma found herself thinking that if the public found out how polite and respectful Eminem was with her family...his record sales would plummet faster than the stock market in 2008.

“I think you can call me Granny now.” Her grandmother smiled at him before turning to Whitney – who had barely taken her eyes off of Harry the entire time they had been there. In fact, the two seemed stuck in their own little conversation. “And I guess I can add you and your sisters to the never ending list of young people who call me Great-Granny.” She told the teenager good-naturedly.

“Seriously?” Emma almost laughed when Whitney finally managed to tear her attention away from her cousin. The poor girl looked ready to faint.

 

 

[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolf1988.wixsite.com/badwolf1988)


	23. Chapter 23

After tea with the Queen, Emma, Whitney, and Harry had taken a drive out to Windsor Castle to go riding while Marshall had hung back to have a private conversation with the old woman and her husband.

“What can we do for you, my boy?” Prince Phillip asked as he took a seat next to his wife on the sofa in her private sitting room.

The Duke of Edinburgh hadn't been present for tea but from what Emma had told him, this wasn't abnormal. While the Queen and Duke probably spent more time together than most married couples, they also spent a fair amount of time apart. The Queen had her duties as monarch to see to and for a man in his mid-nineties, Prince Phillip still carried out hundreds of royal duties a year...more than William and Kate respectively.

“A couple of things, actually.” He got right down to the point. “First, I want to host a small engagement party for Emma...somethin' for just our family and close friends before the press finds out and goes crazy.”

“You can use one of the small dining rooms here.” The Queen spoke up. “And I'm sure we can manage to find accommodations for your guests.”

“And what was the last thing?” Prince Phillip raised an eyebrow curiously.

“You can call me a misogynist or whatever, but I don't like the idea of my woman, my family, livin' under someone else's roof...even if that roof does belong to the Queen of England.” Marshall shrugged. “I also wanna give Emma something that's hers...or ours. I'd like some help findin' a place that's befitting Emma's status as a princess...and I want to find a place quick...before the engagement party.”

“Well,” The Queen sighed. “It looks like we have a bit of a chore on our hands.” She nodded.

“Best to get to it then.” Prince Phillip gingerly got to his feet. “Nothing gets done by sitting around yapping about it. I know just the man to call.”

Just the man turned out to be Phillip's son and Emma's uncle, Prince Charles. Apparently, the future king owned a great deal of property in England and he had an estate that he wanted to unload. It cost a small fortune to keep up but it was also an estate with great historical value. Prince Charles didn't want to sell it to just anyone. It was close to Windsor Castle and was called Fort Belvedere. It sat on about twenty acres of land and was built in the gothic revival style – or so Charles had said. Prince Phillip had come along to tour the property and explained that the estate had once been the home of King Edward VIII. The former king had even announced his abdication from the house. To Marshall, who knew nothing about architecture or history, the main house looked like a medieval castle. The property also came with stables...something he knew that both Emma and Whitney would adore. Emma had been a rider her entire life and Whitney had begun taking lessons the previous summer.

All in all, the property was fit for his queen and their girls. The hefty price tag – a whopping fifty-nine million pounds – didn't deter him from buying the place on the spot.

 

 

[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolf1988.wixsite.com/badwolf1988)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fort Belvedere is a real place. It is located in Surrey, England. It is NOT owned by Prince Charles like stated in this chapter. It is owned by the Crown Estate. From 1929 until 1936 it was the home of Edward, Prince of Wales (later King Edward VIII and the Duke of Windsor). It really was the site of Edward's abdication in 1936. History lesson over.
> 
> What I say in this chapter about the number of public activities Prince Phillip takes on every year was true...until about two weeks ago when he retired (mostly) from public life. At ninety-five-years-old, I think he's earned a break, don't you?


	24. Chapter 24

“Marshall, love, seriously...where are we going?” Emma giggled. “If someone sees me like this, they're going to call the coppers and report I've been kidnapped.”

Marshall had insisted that she wear a blindfold as they drove to the destination of her surprise.

“Chill, Mom,” Whitney piped up from the backseat. “Dad has enough money to pay them off.”

“Reason number three hundred and ninety-four why I don't trust Whitney alone...” Marshall responded as she felt the car come to a stop.

“Oh my God, Professor Snape, I love you.” Emma started cracking up as she heard the sounds of car doors opening.

“What the hell are you talking about, mama?” Marshall was suddenly beside her having opened the door. He sounded very confused.

“You wouldn't care, Pops...it's a _Harry Potter_ thing,” Whitney answered for her.

She felt Marshall's hand in hers and she let him help her out of the SUV. “Can I take this ruddy thing off now?” She gestured at the blindfold.

“No,” Marshall was now behind her, placing a kiss on her neck. “But _I'll_ take it off for you.”

She felt his hands reach up and the blindfold fell away. She blinked a few times to adjust to the light but once she could see, she knew exactly where they were. She had been to this place once or twice in her youth with her uncle.

“Fort Belvedere?” She turned to look at him in confusion. Why would coming here by a surprise? It was just one of many grand estates in England with a historical connection to her family.

“Well,” Marshall put his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans. “That's its name now but Granny said that, given the place's history, she would approve of a change of name...and the girls already had an idea.”

Emma looked to Whitney for an explanation.

“So, our family is pretty twisted with some dark spots in our history...and I'm still trying to talk Daddy into letting me get a pet snake that I want to name Nagini...anyway, I was talking to Hailie and Lainey and they both agree with me...Slytherin House.” The teenager stood next to her father beaming proudly.

The only thought going through Emma's mind in that moment was.... _Huh?_

“It's ours, baby...I bought it from your Uncle Charles.” Marshall finally clarified.

He had to be taking the mickey out of her. There was no way!

“You can't be serious?” Fort Belvedere was one of the most expensive estates in the country. “This place is ours?”

Walking to her, he took her in his arms, “Yep. Even put my queen's name first on the deed. This is where we're gonna raise our family, baby.”

Emma reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck but was too choked up to do much more than place a soft kiss on his lips.

“Emotionally overloaded you again, didn't I, mama?” Marshall asked with a smirk when she pulled away.

“Yes, you fucker,” She laughed a little and playfully smacked his chest as a few tears managed to escape.

“Hey!” Whitney jokingly scolded. “I'm not going to tell you two again – if I can't talk like that, you can't either!”

 

 

_**[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com) ** _


	25. Chapter 25

Later that night, after Whitney was in bed, Emma flopped to sit down next to Marshall on the couch in her (soon to be old) apartment. She had gone to take a shower while he had called the girls in Michigan. He was still on the phone now.

“Lainey, hold up. Em's right here. You can ask her to that question.” He passed her his cell phone.

“What's up, love?” She was used to speaking with the older girls. Marshall made a point to always pass her the phone when he spoke to them.

“According to Bagshot, the government of Great Britain and the monarchy are defined as the blank and the blank. Any chance my beautiful, awesome step-mom knows the answer?”

Of course, she did....and the college girl on the other end of the line knew that.

“The monarchy is the dignified. The government is the efficient.” She answered without even having to really stop and think about it. Bagshot had been drilled into her head pretty much from birth. “And as you're joining the family, you might want to actually do your homework as opposed to using me to cheat. Tell Professor Rushing I say hello.” She gently scolded while reminding the young woman that she had attended the same university and apparently taken the same European History course.

“Busted,” Lainey laughed. “Thanks for the help! Got to run!”

Once she had disconnected the call and handed Marshall back his phone, Emma went to have the discussion that she had been wanting to have all day. Too bad that was when Hurricane Kate decided to make landfall.

“What is this?” The Duchess asked, brandishing an envelope with the  _Shady Records_ logo on the front. “Why would you invite me?”

Invite her where? Emma turned to Marshall with a questioning look only to find him motioning for Kate to shut up.

“Woman, what have I told you about fuckin' knocking before you barge in?” He snapped. “I want Emma's key back...NOW!”

Huffing, Kate threw it to him.

“And you were invited because you're family...whether anyone likes it or not. Now that you've ruined the surprise...OUT!”

Kate hurried to do as she was told, slamming the door behind her.

“Explain please?” Emma turned to him with a smile. She didn't want to come off as bitchy right after Kate had pissed him off.

“That dinner party Granny asked us to attend tomorrow night is actually our engagement party...surprise.” He said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. “I invited my best friend, Shemar and his family and Harry gave me the names of a few of your friends. Thought it would be nice for everyone to meet. I wanted to surprise you.”

For a rapper with a reputation for being a cold hearted asshole, Marshall seemed to go out of his way to make her happy. It made Emma wonder how many drugs his ex-wife was on to willingly give him up.

“I'll still love it, either way.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Seeing the perfect opportunity to broach the topic of conversation that Kate had interrupted, she jumped right in. “Speaking of our engagement...”

“What's up, baby?” She had his full attention.

'Would you mind if our engagement wasn't a very long one?” She nervously played with her hands in her lap.

Marshall slowly smiled. “Baby girl, the soon I marry you, the sooner I get to knock your fine ass up...why would I mind?” He laughed. “How soon are you thinkin'?”

“I was thinking we could make an announcement right before the games and get married in June.”

Marshall nodded. “I like that. What made you pick June?” He asked curiously.

She nervously bit her lip and didn't answer.

“Hey, come here baby,” He reached out and pulled her to cuddle into his side. “Talk to me.”

“Having Whitney around calling me Mum and Hailie and Lainey phoning every day and actually wanting to talk to me has got me thinking...” Her face was buried in his chest and her words were muffled by the fabric of his black wife beater.

Marshall used his hands to gently nudge her chin up so he could look at her. “Thinkin' what, baby?” He pressed.

“Thank I want to experience it all from the beginning – pregnancy, child birth, sleepless nights, first steps – I want to experience all of that.”

“And you will.” He kissed her forehead. “I've already told you that I want that too.”

“No,” She pulled back and shook her head. “I want to experience it now.”

“Emma, are you sayin'...?”

“That I want you to get me pregnant?” She nodded. “I am. If we get married in the next few months, the press wouldn't be the wiser...and that's only if we get lucky and manage to get pregnant before the wedding.”

At her words, Marshall Mathers looked like Christmas had come early.

 

 

**_[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com) _ **


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: The Earl of Rawdon is a real but extinct (November 1, 1868) title in Great Britain.
> 
> Thank you to my beta reader, Meghan (@Christlove88)

“So, you think that did it?” Marshall asked as he lay beside her on the bed trying to catch his breath.

Emma laughed as she moved to cuddle up to his chest, both of them nude and covered in sweat. “Love, I doubt you're going to get me preggers on the first try. You're good but you're not that good.”

“Is that a challenge, boo?” he ran his fingers through her damp hair and teased.

“No!” she laughed again as she laid a kiss on his chest. “Four times is plenty. We try for five you just may kill me. I mean, that would be one hell of a way to go but you're the one who's going to have to explain to the press that you literally fucked a princess to death... just saying.”

Marshall was actually taken aback for a moment. He had actually forgotten that Emma could talk like that – she, like him, watched her mouth around Whitney. He'd forgotten how fucking sexy it was to hear such a dirty word leave such a pretty mouth. “I love you, Emma.” He kissed her forehead and pulled her closer.

“I love you too... and now that you're good and sated... we need to talk about something.” She sat up and moved to turn on the bedside lamp before settling on her knees beside him.

“This can't be fuckin' good,” he groaned. Whether his annoyance came from the fact that she wanted to have a serious conversation at two in the morning or the fact that she was still as naked as the day she was born (and looking thoroughly fucked), he wasn't sure.

“It's not bad,” she rushed to assure him. “I just have to give Granny an answer by tomorrow. I meant to say something earlier but... we got distracted.”

“What is it, baby girl?” He sat up to lean against the headboard.

“I know you have a reputation to uphold and you'd only have to use the title on official occasions but... Granny wants to name you the Earl of Rawdon.” She didn't give him time to respond, she continued on in such a rush. “Granny's really taken a shine to Whitney and thinks she could be a real asset to the family. By making you the Earl of Rawdon, she's also making Whitney, Hailie and Lainey too, a ‘Lady’.”

His queen really was scared of his reaction and he was greatly entertained... mostly because when Emma was nervous, she tended to speak with her whole body... and she was naked. “Anything else I need to consider?” he asked just to keep her talking a bit longer.

“I'd become Princess Emma, Countess of Rawdon... the princess would still be meaningless but Countess would be a real title.” Marshall couldn't help but smile at how excited this made her... and it had nothing to do with bouncing breasts. “Our first-born son would be a viscount. These titles would get the kids into the best public schools and universities... even put our girls in the royal dating pool when they come of age... and you know bloody well that Whitney would do well as a full time royal. I think she'd thrive in this world.”

Marshall agreed with everything Emma was saying. While he couldn't have cared fucking less about a title and would use his only when he was forced to, the titles and lifestyle it afforded would be awesome for their kids. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her straddle his lap. “Okay,” he told her before kissing her. “Tell Granny yes.”

Emma smirked. “I didn't need to make that big speech did I?” she asked dryly. “You were always going to say yes.”

She knew him too well. “Yeah,” he laughed. “But thanks for the show, boo.” He nodded at her bare breasts.

“You're a fucking git!” She laughed and smacked his chest.

“Yeah, but I'm your fucking git.” He pulled her lips back to his. At they started in on round five, Marshall made a mental note to look up what the hell a git was.

 

 

_**[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com) ** _


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rap verses featured in this chapter were not written by me. They were written by a follower (on Wattpad) who goes by the name MarshallsDTownGrl. Trust me, if I had written them, they would be horrible. Love the rap or hate it... I would have done a million times worse so be thankful.
> 
> As always thank you to my beta reader, Meghan.

Marshall's best friend, Shemar, and his wife, Scotland (or Scotty as she asked to be called) arrived the next afternoon with their three kids in tow. Emma got to briefly meet them before she had to return to work at Kensington Palace. She and Harry had a meeting with event organizers to go over final plans for the Invictus Games.

It was after the meeting, when she was alone in her office waiting for Marshall to pick her up that she got an unexpected visit from Kate. Emma was shocked when she laid eyes on the younger woman. Kate's normally perfect makeup was smudged and her hair was up in a messy ponytail. Instead of her normal designer cocktail dress, she was wearing jeans and a St. Andrews sweatshirt. In her hand, she held a portable CD player. “Your fiance really hates me,” she said miserably.

“What are you on about now?” Emma rolled her eyes. If Kate was just now figuring out that Marshall wasn't her biggest fan, she really was an idiot.

Kate didn't respond verbally, she just handed over the CD player.

Emma took it and put the earbuds in her ears and pressed play. What she heard was a track that she hoped that Marshall had no intention of ever releasing to the public because it had scandal written all over it.

“ _You think you're so amazing_

_Your marriage makes you a star._

_Not tryin' to be mean,_

_Wait,_

_Fuck it, yes I am!_

_I got myself a real Queen,_

_And you don't even know who the fuck you are!_

 

_You talk and like Paris' lil fuckin' dog you yap,_

_You never shut your whore trap!_

_My lady puts real power in her words,_

_And you're just a lazy princess,_

_Your work ethic for the fuckin' birds!_

 

_You hide behind a fake smile._

_Designer gear,_

_And havin' the Golden Child._

_You know the truth,_

_Have for a while._

_Out of the two of you,_

_Baby Girl's the real deal,_

_That knowledge ain't nothin fuckin' new._

 

_You tear her down,_

_Make her feel unwanted._

_When you've known all along,_

_Bitch, you're the one who's unwanted,_

_And Baby Girl and Red are protectin' your unearned fuckin crown!”_

Emma took the earbuds out of her ears... and had no idea what to say.

“Do you think this is the life that I wanted for myself?” Kate took a seat on the office's sofa. “When I was a little girl, I wanted to be an art historian and work at the British Museum or the Louvre.” She sighed and ran a hand over her face. “Then I met William at university and I fell in love with him. I couldn't give him up. I thought I knew what I was getting myself into, marrying into this family... but I didn't. The whole world expects me to be Diana but I'm not her!” The Duchess broke down in tears. “I'm Kate! A normal girl from Berkshire!”

Emma had never really thought of the situation from Kate's perspective. She had been born into the royal family, Kate had been thrust into it. Her behavior was a knee-jerk reaction to a world that she didn't fully understand, a world that was still desperately clinging to the memory of her late aunt. Emma actually felt sorry for her. She suddenly saw the parallels between Kate and Diana. Her aunt had also been ill-prepared for life in the royal family... that's why she had eventually fled and her life had ended tragically in a Paris tunnel. Emma didn't want to see anything like that happen ever again. She decided to extend a long overdue olive branch. “It's okay to ask for help or advice, you know.” She set the CD player on the coffee table and took a seat next to Kate. “You don't have to act like a stuck-up bitch to protect yourself. No one in this family expects your to be Diana. Bloody hell, no one expected Diana to be Diana,” she chuckled. “That one kind of took on a life of its own. We may be royal but we're still a family and family looks out for each other... and that includes you.”

Kate wiped a few tears away before turning to look at her. “I'm sorry,” she told her sincerely.

“So am I.” Emma nodded, tearing up a bit. “I saw what Aunt Diana went through when I was a kid. I should have known that you were having a rough go of it.”

“I should have said something,” Kate countered.

“Family?” Emma smiled.

“Family,” Kate agreed before leaning forward for a hug.

The women pulled apart when they heard a snapping sound.

At some point, Marshall had joined them. He was standing next to the coffee table holding the pieces of what was left of the CD from the player. “That was the only copy,” he informed Kate.

“You're not as big of a git as I thought you were.” Kate actually smiled at him.

“And you're not as big of a bitch as I thought you were.” Marshall shrugged.

Emma had a feeling this was the two of them calling a truce.

  

**_[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com)_ **


	28. Chapter 28

Emma was standing in front of her vanity mirror getting ready for her engagement party when Marshall entered the small dressing room. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched her. “You look sexy as fuck, baby.”

She was dressed in a long, pale blue evening gown that had an open back and a slit going up the right thigh. Her granny had apparently insisted that the party be a fancy dress affair. Even Marshall had bowed to pressure and was wearing a suit albeit without the tie and the first few buttons of the shirt undone. “Thanks, love.” As she was putting in her diamond earrings, she caught him giving her a hungry look in the mirror. “Don't go trying to start something,” she warned. “This party was your idea. Is Whitney ready to go?”

“She's waiting for us out in the living room.” He walked up and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “And I can't help wanting to start something when I have a queen as fine as you.” He laid a kiss on the side of her neck.

Emma laughed and turned so she could wrap her arms around his neck. “Well, enjoy me looking like this while it lasts. Once you get me up the duff, I won't look like this again for awhile.”

“You'll be even hotter pregnant,” he assured her, softly kissing her lips. “Plus, as long as I still get to see you naked, I'll be good.”

“Always a pervert, you are,” she kidded good-naturedly.

“Only with you.” He kissed her again.

Emma, knowing their conversation was headed in a direction that they didn't have time for, reluctantly pulled away from him. “Who all did you invite on my side?” she asked as she stepped into a pair of heels that had been dyed to match her gown.

“Your cousins, Zara, Eugenie, and Beatrice along with your folks and your brother and sister. Oh, and your secretary, Jackie,” Marshall raddled off the list. “That cool?”

Emma nodded as she grabbed her small clutch purse. “Yeah. I also told Kate that she could invite her family this afternoon. Her sister, Pippa, is a bit of a fame whore but her parents are nice and her brother's always good for a laugh.”

“It's weird.” Marshall shook his head. “Seeing the two of you gettin' along.”

Emma laughed again as she followed him out of the room and into the hallway. “Let's just hope that it sticks.”

If she had known that Kate was the least of her worries that night, she wouldn't have been laughing.

 

[ **_MY WEBSITE_ ** ](http://www.badwolfrose.com)

 


	29. Chapter 29

Dinner had been a fun affair in one of the smaller dining rooms in Buckingham Palace. Emma found that she really enjoyed the company of Marshall's friends and her truce with Kate was holding strong. It was after dinner however when the evening took a turn.

They were all gathered in the Queen's private sitting room enjoying after dinner coffee/drinks when the Queen stood from her favorite armchair. “Emma, Marshall, may I speak with the two of you privately, please?”

Emma did not have a good feeling about this. She and Marshall followed the Queen none the less.

“What's wrong, Granny?” Emma jumped right to the point as soon as the three of them were behind closed doors.

The Queen picked up a stack of printed out internet news articles from her desk. Emma knew from the experience of trying to teach her that the Queen had no clue how to use the internet. Those pages had to have been printed out by her private secretary. And if her private secretary had felt the need to print them out and show them to her than whatever those articles were about wasn't good. “Marshall's ex-wife gave an interview to a local radio show in Detroit. An interview during which she blames your relationship for a suicide attempt that she made last November.”

What the bloody hell? Last November all Marshall had been to her was the celebrity that she (not-so-secretly) fancied. The two of them hadn't even started talking until a full two months later. What the hell was Kim playing at?

“Granny, Emma and I didn't even know each other in November. We together at the end of January,” Marshall spoke up before she could. “Kim fell off the wagon last fall when Hailie and Lainey told her that they no longer wanted anything to do with her and the courts denied her visitation with Whitney on the grounds of mental instability. The only contact that I've had with that woman,” this was said with pure venom, “has been through lawyers since Whitney was a baby.”

“I don't doubt that Marshall,” the Queen shook her head. “It still needs to be addressed.”

“What do you want us to do, Granny?” Emma ran a hand through her hair. “Should we issue a public denial?”

“No, nothing that drastic.” The Queen set the offending papers on her desk. “Emma, you and Harry are due to give press interviews next week to promote the Invictus Games. When you're questioned about your relationship you just make sure to slip in that the two of you have been involved since January.”

“Granny, if I comment on our relationship Fleet Street's going to think we're engaged,” Emma pointed out.

“So?” the Queen chuckled. “You are engaged, my dear. The press can have fun playing the guessing game until you're ready to make your announcement.”

Later that night, while Emma stood at her vanity mirror getting ready for bed, Marshall walked up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist. “I'm sorry, boo,” he said and laid a kiss on the side of her neck.

Emma gave him a playfully confused look in the mirror. “I'm sorry, love, did you do something that you should be sorry for? If you did, I must have missed it.” She in no way held Kim's big mouth against him.

Marshall chuckled huskily as he nuzzled her throat. “Have I told you recently how much I love you, Emma?”

While he had told her that he loved her rather frequently, it wasn't every day that also used her Christian name. “I love you too, Marshall, always will,” she returned the favor as she leaned back in his arms.

 

 

**_[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com) _ **


	30. Chapter 30

When Marshall returned to the states this time, Emma was sad to see him go but she was now completely sure of his love and felt secure in their relationship. She wouldn't deny that the lack of animosity between her and Kate also helped. The older woman had taken Emma's words to heart and had started seeking her out when the pressures of her position became too much. Having someone to turn to for advice had made the Duchess more confident and she started keeping her royal commitments and even seeking out new ones. She was now putting her arts degree to good use and had become the patron of the British Museum.

Kate returned Emma's kindness by helping her with her wedding plans. No one knew better than her how to navigate the minefield that was a royal wedding.

“The palace press office called yesterday and asked if Marshall and I were going to televise the wedding,” Emma shared as she sat in Kate's garden. The two women were trying to decide on a designer for Emma's wedding dress while George and Charlotte played.

“Urgh,” Kate made a face. “If you're not required to, don't do it. It's just an added nerve wracking nightmare on an already stressful day.”

“But it will be great press for the monarchy and show that British-American relations are still going strong,” Emma rolled her eyes.

“Sometimes I swear the palace suits forget that these are our real lives and that we're not trained seals who'll clap when they tell us to.” Kate caught George attempting to climb up his slide the wrong way. “Georgie, no! Use the steps, please!”

“I told them no,” Emma assured her cousin-in-law. “Could you imagine Marshall getting married on live telly?”

“Not unless forced at gunpoint and even then, probably not,” Kate laughed.

Emma knew that Marshall would rather face a firing squad than get married on television for the whole world to see. Her thoughts were interrupted because at that moment, Emma was hit with a familiar cramping feeling in her lower stomach. Excusing herself to go inside to use the loo, she was disappointed to discover that mother nature had come to call. When she arrived back in the garden she must have looked as disappointed as she felt.

“What's wrong?” Kate asked in concern. Little Charlotte was now in her lap, sucking on her sippy cup.

“Can you keep a secret, even from Wills?” Emma asked as retook her seat in the garden chair.

Kate nodded.

“Marshall and I are trying to have a baby.”

“And you just got your monthly friend?” Kate guessed.

“Yeah,” Emma replied sadly. “It took my mum three years to get pregnant with me and even then, she had to use fertility drugs. What if I have the same problem? That kind of thing is genetic.”

“If you have the same problem your future husband can more than afford IVF,” Kate chuckled. “And half of your genes come from your dad. No issues on that side of the family. How long have you been trying?”

“Since his last visit.”

“He just left two weeks ago,” Kate laughed. “There's nothing to worry about yet. I'm perfectly healthy and it took almost six months for me to conceive George and over a year for Charlotte. If it would make you feel better I can get you an appointment with my OB/GYN so you can get checked out. You should get some prenatal vitamins anyway. The doctor had me start taking them when I started trying for both kids.

“I'd appreciate it,” Emma nodded. She was starting to have a hard time remembering why she used to hate Kate. She caught something out of the corner of her eye. “Uh, Kate, your son is pulling up your petunias.

 

**_[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com) _ **

 


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